


Make Up Your Mind (Let Me Live or Let Me Love You)

by that_one_urchin



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Dark Josie Saltzman, F/F, Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_urchin/pseuds/that_one_urchin
Summary: Unsurprisingly, Alaric Saltzman gets voted out by the student council. Unsurprisingly, they have to hire someone new to fill the headmaster position. Unsurprisingly, the new headmaster makes some changes. Hope is fucked over by these changes.Unsurprisingly.—Hope Mikaelson is forced to be roommates with Josie Saltzman. The rest is chaos.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 131
Kudos: 675





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title is from Make Up Your Mind by Florence + the Machine

Unsurprisingly, Alaric Saltzman gets voted out by the student council. Unsurprisingly, they have to hire someone new to fill the headmaster position. Unsurprisingly, the new headmaster makes some changes. Hope is fucked over by these changes.

Unsurprisingly.

It starts like any other day: with Hope being utterly and completely annoyed by her peers.

Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore has called them all into the dining hall to listen to their start of the year introductions. Her speech is turning out to be a bit longer than Dr. Saltzman’s usual, twenty minute spiel about how great the upcoming year will be. They’re yet to move in, all of the students clutching at their bags or dangling duffles over their shoulders. Hope has her own backpack sat between her legs and it’s beginning to feel a little heavy. She can hear Jed and Brock behind her, whispering about how the new headmistress is a serious MILF or something.

“She’s way hotter than old man Saltzman.” Jed mutters, laughing, no doubt making some crude hand gesture. “Ten out of ten, would fuck again.”

Brock snort-laughs. “Man, I would bend her over and—“

“Hey, idiots.” Hope interrupts, already having had enough. She wishes she could turn off her ears. “You know she’s a vampire, right? She can hear everything you’re saying.”

The boys have the decency to turn pink and shut up.

Hope sits back down properly. She spots the hint of a smile on Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore’s mouth and wonders if she overhead their whole interaction. She must have.

Despite being total assholes, Jed and Brock are right. The headmistress is pretty. She has good genes. At that thought, Hope’s eyes wander over to the Saltzman twins. It’s no surprise that they’re sitting together—codependency takes on a whole new meaning when it comes to those two—and talking amongst themselves. Hope almost wants to try and overhear, but eavesdropping feels too invasive. She watches them for a moment longer.

Lizzie isn’t bad to look at, but there is a certain softness to Josie’s features that Hope can’t help but linger on.

“Stop staring.” Maya Machado, her best friend, jabs her sharp elbow into Hope’s side.

“I _wasn’t_.”

Hope scowls, rubbing her sore ribs. She silently berates herself for falling into old, childish habits and becoming distracted by Josie so easily. She swiftly returns her attention to the headmistress.

“I know that things were rough for some of you last year, but I am working to correct that. We’ll be enforcing a zero-tolerance violence policy on school grounds.” Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore explains. Hope can feel several gazes on her. She ignores them. “In the spirit of togetherness and unity, roommates will not be assigned based on factions this year. We’ll be mixing it up. Vamps with wolves, wolves with witches, etc.”

A quiet murmur of protest rolls through the crowd and a couple people actually gasp in surprise.

Hope rolls her eyes.

The headmistress continues. “Quiet down. After last year’s… unfortunate events, I can see that all of you are having trouble understanding each other. Hopefully, this will help with that. You can find your room numbers underneath your seats.”

Hope reaches beneath her seat and pats around until she feels a slim sheet of paper. The witches must have done some sort of spell to get it there. She takes out the paper and unfolds it.

Josette Saltzman. Room 328B. South Wing.

A heavy weight traps itself in Hope’s throat. She tries to force it away with a swallow. It still stays.

Hope’s eyes snap up to accidentally meet Josie’s own in the crowd around them. She briefly looks at the paper in Josie’s hands, imagining that it says something similar. She gulps and forces her expression into one of indifference, ignoring the sudden burst of raw emotion rising up in her. Her hands clench harshly at her sides as she stares down at the floor.

Is Josie still watching her? Does Josie loathe the idea of them rooming together? Does she still hate Hope? The thought causes bile to crawl up Hope’s throat and spill out all over her tongue.

“Who’d you get?” Maya asks.

“Josie Saltzman.” Hope can barely breathe. “And you?”

“Shit. I got a Saltzman, too. Lizzie.” Maya replies, not sounding too happy about it. Whatever Maya is feeling, Hope is sure that her own emotions are a thousand times worse.

“You are all free to leave.” The headmistress tells them. “Have a happy Sunday!”

Hope stands up quickly, intent on making a hasty retreat to her room (their room) without causing a scene or having to talk to anyone. She is able to push through the crowd without being stopped by anyone. Hope has the exit in her sights, but she doesn’t make it there.

“You got Hope Mikaelson?!” Lizzie yells at a truly ear-shattering volume, catching the attention of many.

Hope’s fingers fail to grasp the door handle. She can feel everyone stop to stare at her, waiting for her reaction. Waiting for her to snap. Hope wants to leave desperately, but finds her feet rooted to the floor. She can’t move.

Fuck. Is this a spell or just her own body’s plain stupidity?

“Quiet down.” Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore murmurs to her daughter quietly, but Hope hears it. Hope hears all of it.

“But mom! You can’t let Josie room with her.” She practically wails. Lizzie’s voice grates on Hope’s ears greatly. “She’ll be killed or mauled or worse. We can’t trust her. Just look at her, she’s still got Alyssa’s blood on her hands!”

Hope’s heart stops.

“Lizzie, that’s enough.” The headmistress scolds her sharply.

All of a sudden, Hope can move again. It’s much too easy to run away. She flies out of there with lightning speed, not caring who she bumps into on the way. Her heart pounds against her chest and thunders in her ears—for a moment, she’d thought that maybe it had lost the ability to beat altogether, but that thought had been very, very wrong.

Hope crashes through the doors of the girl’s bathroom and doubles-over by the sink. She gasps wildly in an attempt to force air into her lungs. Why is it so hard to breathe? She yanks her tie down so it hangs loosely around her neck.

She can do nothing but stand there and endure the constant waves of pain and fear.

_Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths…_

It seems as if an eternity passes before Hope is able to draw a proper breath. She dips down to splash water in her face. The cool liquid calms her down some. When she finally looks up, the sight of her reflection startles her—dangerous, glowing golden eyes and crimson dripping over her palms. Hope blinks. The image disappears. She doesn’t look dangerous at all. She looks small and harmless, just a kid.

Hope checks the stalls to make sure that she’s alone. Thankfully, it’s empty. Thankfully, no one is here to see Hope Mikaelson have a panic attack only a couple minutes into the school year. How pathetic. What would everyone say?

They probably wouldn’t offer her an ounce of sympathy. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.

Sighing lowly, Hope redoes her tie and smooths her hair back until she appears to be somewhat presentable. She carefully checks her reflection in the mirror once more before leaving, keeping her head held high.

Hope walks through the school in search of her room, occasionally checking the paper, as if she didn’t already have it memorized. Room 328B. South Wing. Hope locates the South Wing and climbs up to the third floor easily. A few of the witches seem to be having some trouble with so many stairs. Josie must not be up there yet, if the stairs are too difficult.

Hope is quickly proved wrong.

She stands in the doorway awkwardly, watching Josie sort through her belongings.

“Oh… Josie. Hi.” Hope tries for a wave that is not returned.

Josie doesn’t even smile. She looks like she wants to run away. Hope tries not to let the ache of hurt show on her face.

Oh. So it’s going to be like that, then?

She clears her throat, already feeling incredibly uncomfortable, and decides to keep her mouth shut. Josie has claimed the biggest bed on the left side of the room, so Hope takes the smaller one in the corner. Hope places her bag on the empty mattress and gets to taking out her things. She doesn’t have much to unpack, just some of the basics—clothes, bed sheets, a few pictures of her aunts and uncles, and art supplies—so that distraction doesn’t last for long.

By the time Hope is all done, Josie is still trying to unpackage her collection of souvenirs. Hope wonders if she spent the summer traveling and, if so, where she went.

Hope’s summer was long and dull, most of her time spent with family in New Orleans or going in and out of therapy. Her therapist, Cordelia, was at least nice to talk to. She suggested that Hope draw or paint whenever she feels too stressed or angry.

That seems like good advice. Hope plops down on the bed and grabs a pencil and her sketchbook.

Sounds of shrill excitement and the screaming of friends reuniting in the hallways fill her ears. She draws Aunt Freya’s bar and the lively people that are usually inside of it, coming for cheap drinks or to hear a good jazz song or two. It takes her mind off the chaos of her own life.

“Shoot.” Josie swears (kind of), lifting her finger to her mouth. She’s bleeding. Just barely. It’s a paper-cut.

Hope almost says: _are you okay?_

That sounds too personal, somehow. Like Hope cares too much. She tosses her pencil from one hand to the other, thinking of something to say.

What comes out is:

“You’re lucky you aren’t rooming with a vampire.” Hope chuckles, trying to make it clear that it’s a joke.

“At least a vampire would have more self-control than you.” Josie’s snaps, scowling.

Hope’s heart clenches at the harsh tone of her voice, at her rude words. She struggles to form a proper response.

“Josie, I—“

Loud knocking comes from the door as someone slams their fist against the wood. Shit. She hopes it isn’t Lizzie. Hope listens closely, deciding that it isn’t. The fist sounds heavier, probably belonging to a boy. A very hyper boy, guessing by the pace of the knocking. Josie goes to open the door.

“Hey, Jo.” A voice greets. Hope can tell that it’s MG. “I heard you got roomed with Mikaelson, thought you’d want an escape. We’re smoking at the Old Mill, if you want to come.”

Hope focuses intensely on her drawing. She tries to ignore how MG says her last name, like she’s the villain of everyone’s story. It stings, beneath her skin, and she keeps it there, where no one can see it.

“I don’t know.” Hope hears the wet pop of Josie releasing her bottom lip from between her teeth. “Is Pen going to be there?”

Penelope?

Hope’s gut twists at the thought of Josie’s ex.

“No. I promise. C’mon.” MG encourages her. She only waits a moment more before agreeing.

“Give me a second.” Josie walks back into their room to grab a jacket out of her closet.

For those few seconds, the door is left open and Hope is exposed. She holds her breath until she hears Josie leaving, not glancing back at Hope or even pausing to say goodbye.

—

Hope hates not being able to sleep.

The clock starts to tick towards midnight and she still hasn’t managed to shut her eyes for even a second. She tosses and turns restlessly, trying to get comfortable and failing. Hope even considers going to that dumb party that Maya dropped by to invite her to. Initially said no, because she hates those things, but now she’s sort of regretting her decision.

Josie is probably at the party. Why wouldn’t she be? Josie has a life and more than one friend.

Hope huffs and clutches her pillow to her chest in another attempt to feel comfortable. She jumps when she hears a thud against the door, followed by quiet giggles and the unmistakable sound of kissing.

“Penny, no…” Josie’s muffled laughter floats in through the door. Hope squeezes her eyes shut. “We’re drunk. We really shouldn’t… Penelope… Pen…”

Hope hears a quiet gasp and soft, breathy moan. She ignores the odd clench of her stomach as a wet sound—like a mouth on Josie’s neck—floods into her ears.

“Fuck, we can’t do this.” Josie seems to sober up some and the doorknob twists. “We broke up. I’m not inviting you in.”

Josie opens the door and shuts it behind her too hard, fumbling with the knob and giggling loudly for no apparent reason. The entire room instantly smells of potent alcohol, but a lot of other things, too—weed, dirt, multiple perfumes, arousal.

Fuck. _Arousal_. Is that what Josie smells like when she…?

Hope tries not to think about it.

She hears a soft thud and the creak of a bed and imagines Josie collapsing on her bed. Hope tries to stay still until she hears Josie’s breathing even out, but once it does she turns her head to look.

Josie is sleeping.

Hope does the same.

—

_An angry crowd surrounds her, closes in on her, scowling faces coming closer and closer. Hope gasps out a ragged breath, backing up and only bumping into another furious student. They push her back into the middle of the circle, clawing at her skin with their sharp nails._

_“Monster! Monster! Monster…”_

_They begin to chant, their voices growing to an alarming volume. Hope tries to respond, to say something in return, to apologize, but nothing comes out. Her words catch in her throat, hot and stifling. Guilt clenches her stomach like a hand around her throat._

_“How could you?” A voice asks. It’s familiar and sweet, but she can’t understand it. “How could you, Hope?”_

_“Please.” Hope can’t see anything but the dark, looming pit and their faces. “I don’t—“_

_“How. Could. You?”_

_She starts to scream._

Hope shoots upright in her bed, fingers clenched in a white-knuckled grip on her sheets. Her lungs struggle to pull in air, memories of her dream still flashing through her mind, her pupils blown wide in alarm. She pats her surroundings wildly until she realizes where she is and her heartbeat slows. Safe. She’s safe.

She runs a hand through her damp hair, her palm coming away wet and sweaty. Gross. It would be a good time to shower.

Silently, Hope swings her legs off the side of the mattress and gets out of bed. She pads across the room quietly, in an attempt not to wake Josie, although she doesn’t think that Josie will be up for a while. The other girl is out cold. Josie lays on her stomach, her hair a wild mess of brown strands, with a fluffy pillow firmly tucked under her stomach. She clutches a small, pink stuffed animal to her chest—it looks to be a pig—and releases little, barely-audible snores.

Cute.

Hope’s heart softens at the sight. She can’t help but stand and watch for a while. Josie looks so peaceful like this, but she probably won’t look or feel that way in the morning. Hope can still smell the strong scent of alcohol lingering on her body.

Suddenly overcome with the desire to be nice for once, Hope goes to fetch the Advil out of her bag and fills a glass with water. She leaves three pills and the water on Josie’s nightstand, then grabs her shower supplies.

She slips into the bathroom soundlessly.

Their bathroom is small, but Hope has no room to complain. She is just glad that they got their own and she won’t have to walk down the halls in only a towel every morning. Hope takes a quick shower, the combination of hot water and rose shampoo calming her nerves. She emerges from it, fresh and squeaky clean, and is surprised to find that she isn’t actually dreading the day.

Her mood elevates as she catches the scent of breakfast downstairs—bacon, eggs, burritos, and some more vegetarian options for people like Josie—and she starts to think of finally eating something. Her stomach growls.

Toweling off her hair, Hope kicks open the door, only thinking of her next meal. She walks out into the room.

Josie squeaks. Loudly.

Josie’s eyes widen and her jaw slackens, and for a second it looks as if she might pass out. Hope, stuck in her dumb food-haze forgot that she lives with someone now and accidentally waltzed out into the room with her naked body exposed. It’s not being completely naked that makes her feel exposed, though, it’s Josie. Her roommate’s eyes dip down and never quite remember to come up, her eyes freely roaming Hope’s body in a way that makes Hope feel horribly flustered.

Hope scrambles to cover herself, but it’s really no use, guessing by the color of Josie’s face. Bright red. Bright red and staring, obviously, at Hope’s chest like she’s never seen another girl shirtless before in her entire life. Hope turns a similar color.

“Can you look away?” Hope snaps, forgetting to add a ‘please’ or to be polite.

“Sorry.” Josie spins around on her heel, making a high-pitched noise that reminds Hope of a little of a mouse. “I didn’t mean to… uh, sorry.”

Hope practically sprints to the closet in an effort to get some clothes on. She can’t believe she forgot to bring some into the bathroom with her. She dresses as rapidly as possible, her cheeks scorchingly hot and her fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

Josie still has her back turned to her, her posture ram-rod straight and visibly tense. Hope can still picture the look on her face. She doesn’t think that she’ll ever forget it. It was almost… longing?

Hope won’t think about it.

She can’t think about it.

Deciding to leave for breakfast early, Hope steps into her boots. She also grabs her backpack so she won’t have to come back here later for it. It would be too embarrassing to speak to Josie so soon after that incident. Hope doesn’t want to make eye contact with the other girl for at least a solid year (which will, of course, be tricky with the whole roommate thing).

Hope heads to the door, not saying a word. Josie still hasn’t moved from her stiff position.

“Hope?” Josie calls, before she can escape out the door. Hope stops walking. “Thank you for the Advil and the water.”

Oh.

“You’re welcome.” She murmurs gently in response.

Hope marches out of the room and down to the dining hall for breakfast. She grabs a plate and loads it with food, using eggs and bacon as a distraction from her thoughts.

This roommate situation already isn’t turning out well. She wonders if she could ask to switch or convince Josie to. Josie is the headmistress’ daughter, after all, so she could probably land in any room that she wanted. Which is odd, now that Hope thinks about it.

Why would Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore allow them to room together, especially after last year?

Hope sits down at a table with some of the other wolves—Jed, Brock, Maya, and Ethan—but she is barely greeted by any of them. Jed and Brock seem to be particularly caught up in talking about their new room assignments. Apparently, Brock is rooming with some dorky witch and Jed got put with one of the vamps. One of Josie’s friends. His name is Kyle. Or Kaleb? Hope isn’t entirely sure.

Maya is the only one to say hello, nudging Hope in the arm while Ethan simply smiles through a mouthful of burrito.

“Hey, Hope.” Maya smiles at her. “How are things with Saltzman?”

Hope doesn’t really want to talk about it.

She shrugs. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Lizzie’s such a bitch. She leaves her wet towels everywhere I go and it’s only been a day.” Maya huffs, stabbing at her food angrily. She only has a large pile of sausage on her plate. Wolf appetite. “I don’t understand how someone takes that many showers or manages to be that annoying. I already want to claw my own hair out…”

Hope zones out a little, only half-listening to her friend’s rant. She nods along and eats her food, catching tiny details: apparently Lizzie is the worst person in the world, Lizzie is very vocal about her hate for werewolves, and Ethan has a chill, vampire roommate.

Pretty standard stuff.

As Hope eats, she begins to wonder whether or not Josie is going to get breakfast. She watches to see if the siphoner will show up, but she never does. Lizzie passes through to eat something with everyone else, but there’s absolutely no sign of Josie. Hope starts to worry.

Maybe her stomach just hurts? Hope knows that when she has a hangover she loves to eat a ton of greasy food. Josie should at least have some coffee or something…

Should Hope get her coffee?

“I’ll be back for first period.” Hope stands, plate in hand, and nudges her backpack up her shoulder. “I forgot something.”

She heads for the lunch line, thinking about what Josie would want. Well, first things first, meat and seaweed are off the table. That doesn’t exactly help to narrow down Hope’s choices. There are so many options for them to eat, since the school has to cater to the dietary needs of three different species. Lots of meat for the werewolves, blood for the vampires, and relatively normal food for the witches. She stays away from the blood and goes for some fruit.

Who doesn’t like fruit?

Shit. What if Josie doesn’t like fruit?

Hope tries to remember if she has ever seen her eat fruit. For all the years Hope has spent staring at Josie, she has no memory of Josie ever eating a fruit. Crap. Hope piles on some candies, bottles of water, a couple croissants, tea, and coffee.

She has no clue what Josie likes in her coffee, so she ends up grabbing a handful of different types of sugars, milks, and creams.

Hope doesn’t know how she manages to carry it all up the stairs, but she does it, and feels as if she could collapse by the time she reaches their room. She bites back all complaints when seeing that Josie is still in bed, sheets pulled right up to her chin. Josie blinks at her curiously as Hope shuts the door with her back.

“Are you hungry?” Hope asks.

Slowly, Josie shakes her head no. She looks very confused. Her eyes noticeably stray down to the cup of coffee Hope brought.

“Thirsty?” Hope guesses, receiving a nod. Hope walks over to Josie’s bed side and thrusts the coffee at her. “Here. I wasn’t sure what you like, so I got sugar and cream. And food, for later.”

“You didn’t have to—“

“You’re welcome.” Hope cuts her off and backs away, giving her some room to do her thing.

Josie pours an insane amount of sugar into her coffee, but no cream. Hope makes note of it. She watches as Josie takes a tiny sip and a pleased, happy expression crosses her face.

“Why…” Josie pauses to swallow and lick the leftover liquid off her top lip. “Why did you do this?”

Hope holds her breath.

“We were almost friends once, Jo.” She tries to say it as casually as possible, but she can’t meet Josie’s eyes. Her stomach twists and twists. “I was hoping we could be friends again.”

No response.

Hope shifts from foot to foot, unsure of how to go on without a reply. She figures she should wait for Josie’s response, but…

“Whenever you’re ready. No pressure. I just… I just—“

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Hope questions, looking up, surprise written all across her face.

Josie nods shortly. “Okay. We’re going to have to spend time together, anyways, so, okay. We can try to be friends again.”

Hope’s lips break out into a small, grateful smile.

—

The first week of school is uneventful.

Hope falls back into the same, boring motions of going to her classes and barely talking to anyone besides the Machado siblings. The headmistress barely made any other changes, except for hiring actually competent teachers to teach them this year. As a result, Hope is given a lot more work than before and forced to spend most of class time writing down notes, which isn’t a bad thing. It gives her time to focus on school instead of her thoughts. Plus, she actually gets to learn some new things instead of repeating the same stuff over and over.

She creates a simple routine of waking up, taking a shower, eating breakfast with the other wolves, going to class, studying in the library whenever she gets a break, eating dinner by herself, and going for a run late at night when permitted. It’s similar to her previous routine last year, with a little less social interaction.

Hope barely sees her roommate.

Josie is always asleep when Hope wakes up and is gone by the time Hope gets out of the shower. It almost makes Hope feel as if Josie is avoiding her, but she remembers their agreement to try to be friends and thinks of the slight smile Josie gives her in the halls or before bed.

They’re not friends. Not really. But almost.

Maybe?

Hope hopes so.

She’s been on her best behavior all week, hoping that Josie will see how well she’s doing and offer to watch a movie with her or something. That’s all Hope wants. Forgiveness.

It’s been relatively easier to be nicer this year. It has only been a week (okay, so it’s Wednesday, but whatever), but whenever Hope feels a bad impulse she just runs an extra mile or two. She returns from her run that night with her earbuds still in, drenched in sweat while music blasts in her ears. She makes her way up the steps a bit slower than usual, this time, since she is already feeling worn out.

Maybe she’ll take another shower. What if Josie thinks that she smells bad? That would suck.

Hope pulls the door open and walks in, kicking off her dirty shoes. It’s because of the music still playing in her ears that she doesn’t immediately hear or notice it.

The kissing.

Or making out, rather. She has no clue why they choose to do it on her desk, but, well, Penelope is pressing Josie down against that desk. This is not what Hope needs right now or ever, for that matter. She thought they broke up.

A hot flash of something pools in Hope’s stomach as she notices how Josie’s legs are spread, how high her skirt is hiked up, how a pink tint seems to consume her skin. Another flash of emotion fills her chest as she notices Penelope’s hand placement, but at least Hope can put a name to the second one.

Jealousy.

She’s jealous. She briefly imagines what it would be like to drag Penelope out of the room by her stupid, freshly-cut hair and to take her place, but that thought passes as quickly as it comes.

(Josie would never kiss her, even if Hope wants and wants and wants.)

Hope clears her throat.

The two girls startle, obviously having not seen Hope standing there for the past few seconds. Hope tries to block out all view of Josie—of the rosy hue on her cheeks, of the harsh breathing.

“I’d appreciate it if you could not do that on my desk next time.” Hope says, stiffly.

Without a word, she walks across the room, gets her textbooks and pencils, and leaves. Maybe she slams the door a little too hard as she goes. The wood rattles and Hope hears the start of a conversation on the other side of it.

“Stop laughing.” Josie hisses, accompanied by the sound of Penelope chuckling. “It’s not funny. It’s her room, too. I told you, this is the last time that we…”

Hope blocks it all out.

It gets easier and easier not to hear as she goes farther and farther away from the room, but she has trouble getting rid of the tight coiling in her gut.

How can she let herself feel this way? So angry? So jealous?

It’s been years since Hope had a crush on Josie. At least, that’s what she likes to tell herself. She sticks to the claim that her crush ended around middle school, when Josie got braces, and that it never came back. But that’s a lie. Sometimes, if Hope tries to think about it, she isn’t sure when it truly ended or if it ever really did at all.

Hope goes to the library and finds a comfy spot in the corner to study in. She accidentally makes eye contact with a tall boy, who bumps into her purposefully as she passes.

Hope has no idea who he is.

(She silently wonders if he was one of Alyssa’s friends.)

It’s no matter. Plenty of people hate her here. All she wants to do is graduate and be out of school without a fuss. That’s all. That’s it. No Josie. No drama. Just schoolwork.

Hope settles down and cracks open her History of Lycanthropy book, flipping to page fifteen.

No Josie.

No drama.

Just schoolwork.

—

Hope blinks blearily as she feels pressure on her arm. She realizes that someone is gently jostling her around. Her eyes fly open, startlingly golden, and land on Josie, who yanks her hand back.

Oh.

Hope hadn’t meant to be all… wolfy with her. She blinks once again, the color fading from her eyes, and peers around the room. She is still sitting in the same corner of the library, except it’s nearly empty now and the dull light that was coming in through the windows when she first got here has now faded to grayish black. She must have fallen asleep. That doesn’t explain why Josie is here.

“Did you want something?” Hope asks, sitting up. She stretches, but feels the need to hold back her yawn while in front of Josie. Something about having her mouth hang open doesn’t sound very attractive. “I thought you were busy with Park.”

Fuck. Hope can’t help but allow the bitter sting to slip into her words. She is being so obvious.

Thankfully, Josie doesn’t seem to notice.

“No. I kicked her out and I cleaned off your desk. I’m sorry about that, by the way.” Josie whispers her apology, almost seeming embarrassed. Hope raises her eyebrows at that. “It’s not going to happen again. Penelope won’t be around anymore.”

“Sure.” Hope says, tasting venom on the back of her throat. She swallows and feels no better.

Josie frowns. “I mean it. I’m not…”

She brings a hand up to her neck, rubbing lightly at the base of her throat as she speaks. Hope’s gaze travels to the spot and her nails dig hard into her palms when she notices it’s a fading red color.

“I’m not going to let her touch me anymore.” She says firmly. “C’mon, you should sleep in a bed.”

“Actually, I’d prefer to sleep in the library, thanks.” Hope teases, shifting around as if she is actually planning to sleep there.

Josie giggles. “Don’t be a dick. Come on.”

Pleased by the sweetness of Josie’s smile and the cute noise, Hope stands up without protest.

They climb the stairs together.

No one is in the halls and the rooms are mostly silent behind their doors. Wow. It must be really late. Usually, everyone finds a reason to stay up all night and talk, especially during the first week.

“Why’d you come down here?” Hope asks, while they walk. Josie looks at her questioningly. Hope doesn’t blame her, it’s been a minute since either of them said anything. “To the library, I mean. Did you need to check out a book or something?”

Josie looks at her like she’s an idiot.

Hope pauses, right outside their door, wanting to know the answer. Josie rolls her eyes when she notices that Hope has stopped walking.

“Because of you, silly. You didn’t come to bed. I had to make sure you didn’t die.” Josie explains, smiling faintly, as if it’s all a joke, but Hope sees the barest hint of a blush crawl across her skin.

Maybe it’s just a trick of the light or maybe it isn’t.

“Oh.” Hope says, stupidly.

“Yeah, _oh_.” Josie replies, equally as stupidly.

Josie pushes open the door and Hope follows after her. That night, sleep comes easily.

—

One of the additional changes the headmistress made is merging some of the classes together, so they are not only forced to room with each other, but to work with each other, too.

For example, the vampires have to join all of the wolves for their anger management class. Some of the vampires also get placed in a herbology class, according to Sebastian. The only class she has that is merged is physical education with the witches, which Hope isn’t too mad about. All this means is that she won’t have to try too hard in any of the sports, since she’s stronger and faster than any witch.

Hope is telling this exact thing to Josie on their way into the gymnasium.

“I don’t even have to try.” Hope explains. Josie is wearing her gym shorts—the extra tiny ones that run high up her legs and show too much thigh for Hope to think straight.

“Don’t be so sure about that.” Josie jokes, poking Hope’s side. “You’ll be eating your words when I win.”

Hope scoffs. “I’ll buy you everything in the dining hall if that happens.”

Josie laughs and continues to tease her, saying little, taunting things that aren’t really meant to irritate anybody. It feels nice to be able to joke around with someone freely, especially Josie.

“Josie!” Lizzie claps her hands together loudly to get her sister’s attention. “What are you doing with Hope? Come here, before I’m forced to disown you.”

Ugh. Lizzie.

Josie rolls her eyes, smiling once more at Hope before jogging away. “That’s not how it works!”

Hope rolls her eyes good-naturedly at their twin antics. She is glad that Lizzie seems to be more snarky than actually pissed off this year. Maybe the summer gave her time to forgive and forget.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

None of Hope’s friends (she has two) are here, so she finds a spot between two smaller wolves who don’t openly glower at her and stays there. Shortly after everyone arrives, the coach starts telling them what to do.

“Alright, everyone!” He blows his whistle. Hope winces at the sound but tries not to hold anything against him. He’s new. “Let’s start with some laps around the gym. Four for the witches, six for the wolves. Let’s go!”

Hope starts to jog along with the rest of the pack. She barely feels winded after five laps, due to her werewolf stamina, and smirks when she sees some of the witches already slowing down.

One of those witches is right in front of her, but Hope doesn’t notice that until she bumps into Lizzie.

“Oh.” Hope stops running. “Sorry.”

Lizzie scowls at her. “Keeping up your violent streak, Mikaelson?”

_Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths…_

“No. Sorry. It was an accident.” Hope says shortly and tries to keep on moving, already regretting stopping to say anything at all. Lizzie snatches her arm before she can get too far.

Shit.

“Let go of me.” She commands lowly, unable to keep the slight growl out of her voice.

Lizzie scoffs and crosses her arms across her chest, visibly unimpressed. “Already making threats? Why am I not surprised?”

_“Let. Go.”_

Lizzie advances on her, closing in on her, much like the people did in her dream.

“Tell me, Mikaelson, did you enjoy it when you snapped Alyssa Chang’s neck?”

Hope slaps her. Hard.

One moment, Hope’s hand is at her side, and the next it’s swinging through the air and Lizzie is on the ground. The loud sound of it surprises Hope. It rings through the class and everyone instantly falls silent. She didn’t mean to hit her that hard. She didn’t mean to hit her at all.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why does she have to be such a screw-up?

She’s still standing over Lizzie, like the predator that she doesn’t want to be—eyes glowing and narrowed dangerously, jaw clenched tight—when the coach runs over to them, along with everyone else.

“Mikaelson! What the hell?” The coach yells and Hope immediately backs up. “It’s been a week.”

It’s been a week and she has already fucked up.

Hope can’t escape the feeling that someone has tied a boulder to ankle, thrown her in the ocean, and now she’s sinking. Hope tries to catch her breath, but water seems to flood her lungs. She can’t breathe. Again.

“Someone get her an ice pack.” The coach looks up at Hope with fiery eyes. Hope gulps. “And you need to go to the headmistress’ office.”

“But I—“

“ _Now_.” He snaps.

Hope frowns and starts to retreat, but not before accidentally bumping into the crowd of people that have gathered around. She stumbles and makes eye contact with Josie, who is helping her sister up.

Josie looks right at her when she says, “I take it back. We will _never_ be friends.”

She’s not sinking—she’s drowning.

—

Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore gives Hope five weeks of detention and a stern lecture about how violence isn’t the way to deal with problems, but acknowledges that Lizzie can be a little much. It feels nice to not be immediately written off, or at least it should, but Hope doesn’t have it in her to be nice to herself right now. The headmistress strongly advises more therapy and sends her off.

Her daughters are much less forgiving.

Two weeks pass without Josie saying a word to her and without Hope attempting to speak to her.

Josie goes in and out of the room but never stays for longer than necessary. It’s very clear that she is avoiding Hope. Lizzie, on the other hand, is all about following Hope around and trying to piss her off. Hope gets the sense that Lizzie’s plan is to get her to snap, then to get her expelled as a result. There are several times where she thinks that it would be a lot easier to just leave school herself, but that would mean giving up, and she’s a Mikaelson.

It’s only one year. She can manage.

Hope is close to falling asleep when she hears a couple muffled voices and the sound of the door creaking open. It surprises her when she sits up and sees Josie stumbling inside, heels in hand. The familiar smell of tequila follows her inside.

“Oh.” Josie laughs drunkenly. “It’s you.”

Hope leans up on her elbows and frowns at that statement, but still doesn’t respond.

She watches as Josie grabs hold of the doorway, swaying back and forth slightly. It looks as if she may tip over at any moment. Brown eyes flutter open, clearly unfocused even in the dark.

“Are you okay?” Hope whispers. “You should go to sleep. You look really drunk.”

Josie steps forward, in a daze, and clutches at her stomach.

“I think…” Josie stops. Tries again. “I think I’m going to puke.”

Not a second later, Josie darts into the bathroom and flies down to her knees in front of the toilet bowl. She heaves out a violent sound, along with whatever liquids remain in her stomach. Hope is on her feet and at Josie’s side in an instant, her concern overriding her nose. She tries to exhale more and keep the inhaling to a minimum as she gathers up Josie’s hair and pulls the short, wispy strands away from her forehead. Hope forms a messy ponytail in one hand and tries to stroke Josie’s back soothingly with the other, but Josie bats her away.

“Stop it.” Josie orders weakly, her voice hoarse, and Hope drops her hand. “Don’t do that.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

Hope lets go of Josie’s hair, but makes sure that it falls in a way that it won’t get into the toilet. She gets up and searches for a glass to fill with water. Hope turns the sink on and holds the glass under the cold stream of water, filling it up to the brim.

She returns to sit at Josie’s side and holds out the water for her. Josie eyes the glass warily.

“It’s not poison.” Hope tells her. Her heart feels heavy at the thought that Josie thinks she would actually hurt her. “Go ahead. Drink it all.”

Josie nods and tilts her head back to try a careful sip of it. She swallows, hums appreciatively, and begins to chug from the glass in earnest. Quiet gulping sounds fill the room as Josie drinks. She smells like a distillery. Jesus Christ.

Hope’s fingers twitch at her side with the need to reach out and comfort her, but she respects that Josie said not to. She puts her hands under her knees to try and fight the urge.

“Are you still scared of me?” Hope asks, because the question has been on her mind all night long.

“I’m not scared.” Josie turns and buries her face in the toilet again, making rough, ungodly sounds that grate on Hope’s ears. She gasps and groans pathetically, but still manages to sit up and look Hope in the eye. “I’m not scared, I just hate you. You hit my sister, you killed someone. You’re a monster.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be honest with you all, I wrote this on a whim because I repeatedly saw a video of Kaylee Bryant doing a flip on Twitter and thought ‘ha, Josie was probably this much of a dork when she was younger and Hope still had a crush on her’. So. Now, this.
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to answer some questions: this fic plays with canon, but mostly has a mind of its own. Hope is only a wolf, but the twins are still siphoners. If there’s other stuff you want to know, just ask (but some of it is part of the mystery).

“Do you blackout?”

Hope walks around Emma’s office, occasionally brushing her hand over some of the objects in the room. She isn’t sure if she likes Emma yet.

This is her second session with Emma and Hope still hasn’t gotten used to having a new therapist. She liked her old one. It’s not that she thinks that Emma is bad—actually, Emma has been nothing but nice to her and hasn’t judged Hope for any of her mistakes yet—but Emma is different. Her old therapist was a wolf with a forest green office and an earthy, familiar smell. Emma’s scent is slightly more subtle, more witchy, like power and the very faint, burning scent of candles.

Like Josie.

Hope stops pacing after a while, realizing that she has accidentally started circling Emma. It could be seen as predatory, as if she plans to attack, and Hope hates the thought of being viewed as animalistic.

She sits down. The leather couch squeaks under her shifting weight. “No, I don’t. It’s different.”

“Different how?”

“It’s like…” Hope tries to find the right words. She dips back into old memories, her gut twisting at the violent thoughts that flash through her head. “It’s like a movie. I can see everything I’m doing, but I can’t stop it. I’m not in control. Like, the other day with Lizzie, I didn’t mean to hit her. It just happened.”

Fuck.

_It just happened?_

She digs her nails into the couch to resist digging them into her own palms. Hope hates how she sounds like some rabid animal who can’t control herself. These are her actions and she should be able to take responsibility for them.

She hurts people. She hurt Lizzie. It was all her fault, not someone else’s.

“Does this happen more frequently around the full moon?” Emma asks. Hope doesn’t answer, still caught up in her thoughts. “What happened last year, that happened the day before the full moon, right?”

Hope knows that Emma already knows when it happened.

She is almost a hundred percent sure that Emma saw her file and read the report of the incident in detail, and even if Emma hadn’t then she would have definitely heard one of the rumors by now. Hope’s name is always floating around the halls, whispered from classroom to classroom and from mouth to ear. People usually bring up her father, too.

(“Klaus Mikaelson, the Great Evil. His daughter doesn’t fall far from the tree.”)

Hope also knows that this is just Emma’s way of trying to get her to open up. She knows that, at some point, she is going to have to explain what happened with Alyssa Chang, from her point of view. Someday.

Not today.

“Right.” Hope confirms, curling in on herself a bit more. The clock ticks, the seconds passing. She doesn’t say much else for the rest of the session.

—

Once Emma says that she can go, Hope decides to just grab breakfast in the dining hall instead of returning to her room. She’s hungry—she always feels hungry, side effects of being a wolf—and it doesn’t seem like the best idea to be around her roommate right now. Josie is still mad at her. She acts as if Hope barely exists these days, never even stopping to say hello or goodbye. It bothers Hope a lot more than she cares to admit.

She walks down the stairs slowly, not particularly excited about having to go speak to other people today. Hope would rather take her food to go and eat in her bedroom, but oh well…

After grabbing a plate and a small mountain of food, along with a bottle of water, Hope finds a relatively empty table and sits at it. The people sitting there send her strange glances, but don’t speak up or insult her, so Hope continues to eat in silence. She is almost halfway done with her food when a dark shadow casts over her plate and the table. That same shadow lingers for a while and Hope tenses slightly, thinking that someone might try and start a fight with her. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time.

Sighing, Hope raises her head. She relaxes once she sees it’s just Landon Kirby. He’s probably the least threatening person she’s ever met.

“Hey, Hope. Uh, can I ask you something?” He says, fiddling with the buttons of his flannel.

Hope raises her eyebrows.

“Um. Sure?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out… with me, to be clear.” He clears his throat awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck. “Everyone is going into town this weekend to shop and stuff. So, I thought maybe you’d like to come.”

At first Hope thinks he’s joking—no one asks her out, no one ever even talks to her—but he seems far too nervous to be trying to play a cruel prank on her.

Landon stands there, occasionally bobbing up on his heels. He can’t seem to stay still.

“Okay.” She says, after a moment.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, sure. I guess.” She tries to be enthusiastic about it. Tries. She doesn’t really want to go, but again, no one talks to her. Landon seems okay.

And anyways, why not?

Landon goes away and Hope returns to her food. She finishes up the last of it pretty quickly, then gets up to put her trash away before leaving the dining hall. Hope feels a bit better, now that her stomach is full, and she starts to climb the stairs two at a time.

“Bitch.” Some guy roughly bumps his shoulder into hers in passing. He smells like a vampire.

A couple of his friends, a mixed group of witches and vampires, snicker at her expense. The boy who said it is unfamiliar to her, maybe a little bit younger and looking to show off for his friends. Hope understands. Sometimes, she feels like a walking sideshow attraction instead of a person.

Hope chooses to drop it. She can’t afford another strike on her record. One more wrong move and she’ll probably be suspended. That can’t happen. This is her one chance to try and redeem herself or at least to do something useful with her life.

Hope tries to push past the still-laughing group, but she barely gets to take a step before the boy is in front of her again. Shit. Vamp speed. Hope accidentally bumps into him again. His chest is stiff and unyielding.

“I was talking to you, bitch.” The boy is incredibly pale and thin, and he flashes his fangs too much to be taken seriously.

Still.

He’s a vampire and she’s only a werewolf.

Hope is sure that she could beat him if she really had to, but she would have to be smart about it or else she’d be easily overpowered.

“Nice insult.” Hope schools her expression into one of indifference. “Can you move, now?”

The boy looks ready for a fight. Damn it.

“Come on, man. She’s not worth it.” One of his friends calls out. Good. At least someone has some sense around here.

Hope casts a glance towards their audience, his tiny group of friends. She skims over them with no real focus, unimpressed, until her eyes stop on a familiar face amongst the sea of randoms. Josie Saltzman. Josie’s attention is firmly set on the floor beneath her feet, her fingers grasping at her elbows as if trying to hug herself. As if trying to shrink and hide. Hope narrows her eyes once she realizes what Josie is doing.

This is where they’re at? Josie is just going to let Hope be openly bullied?

An unmistakable pang of pain lands somewhere on Hope’s heart. She knows that she shouldn’t be surprised. Josie hates her. Some tiny, foolish part of Hope’s brain had convinced her that she had a chance at redemption. She thought that Josie would at least stick up for her or have the decency to make eye contact.

She was wrong.

“Move.” Hope growls, shoving the boy aside. He stumbles, clearly caught off guard. “Now. Before I break something.”

He scowls. “You—“

The boy gets cut off, but Hope is pretty sure that she already knows what he was going to call her. His insult dies on his lips, stopping abruptly as he looks off at something or someone behind her. It takes Hope a second to register the fact that she should turn around and see what everyone else is staring at. She looks over her shoulder. It’s just the headmistress, but her presence is enough to stop any potential fights.

It’s weird, but Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore has a distinctly pleasant vibe that Hope instantly notices. She seems nicer than Dr. Saltzman, who reeked of bourbon on good days and was always seconds away from yelling.

Hope drops her defensive stance, attempting to appear non-threatening. It barely works.

“Hi, guys.” The headmistress greets kindly. All of them murmur a greeting in return. Hope notices that Josie’s cheeks turn a faint pink. She forces her eyes away from Josie when she realizes that the headmistress is looking right at her. “It’s nice to see you’re all getting along. Hope, can I speak to you privately, please?”

“Um. Sure.” Hope replies awkwardly.

Shit. She must be in trouble for something. Hope hasn’t done anything wrong in a couple days, but there must be something she did. There’s always something.

Hope follows the headmistress to her office. She feels the need to look over her shoulder at Josie, but resists it. The need pulls at her insides until they turn a corner and Josie falls out of view.

As soon as the headmistress closes the door, Hope begins to ramble.

“Am I in trouble?” She blurts. “I don’t mean to be rude, Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore, but this is the second time you’ve called me in here and I haven’t done anything. Well, this time. But I—“

“Hope, calm down. Breathe. You’re not in trouble. Take a seat.” She gestures to the empty chair at her desk.

Hope sits.

“And you can just call me Caroline, if you want. I think that other title is a little too wordy.” Caroline informs her. Hope nods. She was sort of getting tired of saying Headmistress Forbes-Salvatore all of the time. “I have some questions for you.”

“About what?”

Caroline smiles shortly. “About my daughter.”

Hope flushes.

She realizes that she hasn’t inhaled properly for a while now. Josie. Why does Caroline want to talk about Josie? Has Hope been so obvious that even Caroline knows about Hope’s little crush? Is that what this is, Caroline bringing Hope in here to tell her to stay away from her daughter?

Fuck. She needs to calm down.

If Caroline can hear the shaky exhale that Hope releases, she doesn’t say anything about it.

“Lizzie.” Caroline continues, after a prolonged pause.

Hope has the fleeting thought that Caroline just did that on purpose to see what Hope’s reaction to Josie would be, but she casts those thoughts away. Surely, an adult wouldn’t be so concerned with silly, teenage gossip.

“What about Lizzie?” Hope scratches the back of her neck. “We talked about her already.”

Caroline nods. “Yes, but yesterday someone was kind enough to drop by and let me know all of the information about the confrontation. I heard that Lizzie actually grabbed you first. You didn’t tell me that last time. Is that true?”

Hope waits.

And waits.

“Aren’t you going to use that truth-telling device?” Hope has no idea what it’s called, but whenever she got interrogated, Dr. Saltzman would use it to see if she was lying or not.

Caroline’s nose scrunches up, just a bit, enough to remind Hope of Josie.

“That seems highly unethical.” She says, looking taken aback. Hope wonders how much Caroline knows about Dr. Saltzman’s leadership skills. He was always crossing some moral line. “I want to be able to trust that my students will tell me the truth.”

“Oh.”

That’s new.

Hope drums her fingers against her knee as she thinks. On one hand, she could tell the truth, but that would get Lizzie in trouble. Lizzie definitely deserves it for being an asshole and needlessly provoking Hope, but hurting Lizzie also means hurting Josie. On the other hand, Hope could lie and continue to receive her punishments, but no one really wants to spend weeks in detention.

But.

Hurting Lizzie means hurting Josie.

_Hurting Josie._

“No, I…” Hope focuses on steadying the pace of her heart. Damn vampire hearing. “I started it.”

Caroline raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Caroline watches her for a moment, as if willing Hope to tell the truth. Hope meets her eyes, not fearing compulsion, only fearing that Caroline will be able to spot the way her heartbeat quivers.

“Okay, then.” Caroline says, finally. “You’re free to go.”

Hope gets up and smiles politely as she leaves, grateful to be out of there. She walks right into someone and nearly swears, because this is the second time today.

“Sorry!”

Without thinking, Hope grabs onto the person’s hips to keep them both from tumbling over. She sucks in a breath, holds it, and then forgets how to breathe completely as she realizes who it is.

Josie.

Of course.

Hope stares right into dark brown eyes, getting caught up in the depths of them. Familiar heat dances across her spine and twists around her throat like a vine. She stands, totally frozen and speechless, with her hands still grasping Josie’s hips. Josie’s fingers land on her shoulders for a brief moment before she pulls away, but Hope thinks the slight touch will brand her skin for an eternity.

“Sorry.” Hope mutters, again, while Josie stares at her silently. Josie’s gaze remains cold.

Hope can’t help but discreetly inhale through her nostrils. Josie smells so good—sweet and a little sweaty, but achingly familiar. Hope has missed her scent, missed everything about her. It feels as if Josie lives miles away, even when she sits on a bed only a couple feet away from Hope.

“You’re blocking the door.” Josie points out. Hope glances down at the soft fullness of her lower lip before forcing her gaze elsewhere and stepping out of Josie’s way.

“Sorry.” She mumbles, one too many times.

Josie seems to linger nearby, pulling at a loose thread on her yellow sweater, but eventually she leaves and steps into her mother’s office.

Hope watches her go.

—

Hope blinks herself awake. The room around her is dark, shadowed by the night. Her clock informs her that it’s nearly three in the morning. She huffs and lies back down with the intention of sleeping again, but there’s a light on in the bathroom. For a second, Hope swears that she hears Josie’s voice chanting something in Latin.

_“Igne nos optima interficit…”_

She closes her eyes, convinces herself it was an odd dream.

—

On Saturday morning, Hope crawls out of bed an hour earlier than usual and starts to get ready for going into town.

Hope gets dressed slowly, feeling a little sluggish and tired, but happy about the idea of shopping. She hasn’t gotten the chance to go into town yet, so she’s in dire need of some better art supplies. Hope has been using the same three pencils to take notes and sketch for the last couple weeks and she misses her more expensive items, like quality paints and brushes. She figures that she can bring Landon into the store with her and he won’t complain.

By the time Hope gets done putting on clothes, Josie is awake. She usually gets up later than Hope, so it’s a slight surprise to see her already up and about, but Hope assumes that Josie is also going into town today.

Josie yawns loudly, stretching her arms up before bringing them back down to rub at her eyes. She looks younger and softer somehow, the morning sun and sleepiness giving her an innocent look.

It’s kind of adorable.

Hope keeps her thoughts to herself and refrains from commenting. They still aren’t on speaking terms and Hope doesn’t want to disturb her.

“Hope.”

Oh. Never mind. Maybe they are speaking?

“Yeah?” She asks, hopefully, peering up from her high-heeled boots.

Josie is facing the mirror on her side of the room. She’s too preoccupied with her makeup to reply for a second, so Hope waits patiently. Josie picks up a small tube of lip gloss and uncaps it, rolling the gloss over her full lips until her mouth shines enticingly.

Hope’s sleepy eyes blink awake to watch.

“I heard you’re going out with Landon.” Josie says, slowly and carefully, watching Hope in the mirror.

Why would Josie want to talk about that? It’s not important at all.

“Oh.” Hope says, equally as slowly, but not in the same tone of voice. What even is Josie’s tone of voice? Is she angry? Bored? “Yeah, I am.”

“So, you’re dating him?”

“No. That’s silly.” Hope is confused. Why are they talking about this?

It’s one semi-date. Not a marriage proposal. She thought that if Josie decided to speak to her that they would have a long, constructive talk about something important or at least say hello to each other. It never crossed her mind that Josie would want to talk to her about Landon, mostly because Hope barely thinks about him herself.

Although, if they are going to talk about other people…

“Are you dating Penelope?” Hope asks, unable to resist. She can’t help but notice whenever Josie smells like someone else or has a hickey.

(It’s all she can notice, sometimes. Hope thinks that she might drive herself insane with jealousy.)

“No.” Josie replies.

Josie tousles her hair in the mirror, clearly trying to get it to fall right. Hope watches her reflection out of the corner of her eye. She sees Josie try and fix the strands several times.

“It looks pretty any way you put it.” Hope admits, unprompted, her teeth clamping down on her tongue a second later.

Josie dips her head in a nod. “Thanks.”

Hope feels a blush spread throughout her body, under the collar of her shirt, and decides that it would be a good idea to leave now before Josie can see. She gathers the last of her things and nods at Josie on her way out, unsure if they can say goodbye to each other or if that’s still out of the question.

Things seem to be getting better. It’s a start, even if all they did was talk about other people.

Landon is waiting outside for her, planted on the steps outside of the school. His cheeks are pink from the cold, the weather getting to him as they dive into September.

“Hey.” He stands to greet her.

Hope smiles politely in return. “Hey.”

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

They don’t talk much as they walk. A few other kids walk in front of them the whole time, but Hope is content with trailing slightly behind them instead of going to converse. Landon seems to be a bit nervous—isn’t he always—but Hope’s mind is elsewhere, on the paints she is going to buy and how much she can get without using up all of her money.

The school rarely allows students to go into town on weekdays, so it’s a nice treat to get out on the weekends when they can.

Hope suggests that they go to the art shop first and Landon agrees. He tags along, behind her, while she gathers up different items. Paints, an easel, a canvas, a bundle of colored pencils and a pack of crayons because Hope also likes to doodle. Once she’s done, they go up to the cash register to pay.

Landon smiles while the employee rings up the crayons. “Are you getting a coloring book, too?”

Hope knows he’s joking but nods anyways.

Landon laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Which it isn’t. It was barely a joke, but okay.

The employee hands Hope a plastic bag, with all of her purchases inside, and she thanks him before taking the bag. Hope and Landon leave the store to go wander around aimlessly. She lets him drag her into a comic book store and ends up flipping through a Wonder Woman comic for a while, until he gets done geeking out and actually buys something.

A couple of the other students are also out today (not Josie, but Hope has been looking out for her) and either gawk at Landon hanging out with Hope or blatantly glare her down. She’s learned to ignore it. He hasn’t. Landon frowns obviously at the rude students.

Hope almost wants to scold him for not having the tact to just keep his head down. At least he doesn’t say anything to them. Things are much better when they just leave Hope alone.

“Don’t mind them, they’re assholes.” Landon puffs out his chest slightly, like he plans on trying to protect her.

Hope won’t laugh. No. She won’t. That would be very rude.

Landon may be a witch (warlock?) but he isn’t half as powerful as any of the other witches at the school. Hope knows this, because she has seen him try to do spells and concluded that a human could probably do better, but Hope can also sort of tell when one witch is more powerful than another. It’s a subtle difference, usually in the way that they carry themselves.

For example, Josie’s back is always straight, her chin tilted up without her realizing it. It’s subtle, but there. Landon, on the other hand, normally looks as if the wind will knock him over.

“Let’s go get coffee.” Hope nods in the direction of a nearby coffee shop. “I’m thirsty.”

“Okay.” He agrees, following after her.

A tiny bell above the door rings as they enter, the chime high-pitched and light. A blanket of warmth falls over them as soon as the door is shut. They get in line.

Hope does a quick sweep over the people in the room. She recognizes almost no one, except for Lizzie and some kids from Mystic Falls High.

Josie comes out of the bathroom and joins Lizzie at a nearby table, but neither of them seem to notice Hope or Landon. Lizzie slides a large cup of coffee across the table to Josie, who drinks it eagerly. Hope tears her gaze away quickly.

She finds Landon already watching her. Oh.

“Why did you want to hang out, anyways?” Hope asks. She tucks her hands in her coat pockets.

“I don’t know.” Landon replies, honestly. “No one ever considers that you might have had a reason for doing what you did.”

He pauses and Hope waits, praying that he won’t ask her about it. He does.

“Why did you kill her? Your ex-girlfriend.” He says it as if Hope needs clarification. She has to fight to stop herself from flinching at the topic change. “Bad breakup?”

It’s supposed to be a joke.

“Landon, that’s not funny.” Hope picks at a loose thread on her jeans, feeling uncomfortable.

He frowns. “Oh. Sorry.”

For some odd reason, Landon thinks that this is a good time to try and hold her hand. He grabs it and locks their fingers together rather boldly. His palm is sweaty against her own.

Hope is about to pull away, but a sudden shock runs through her arm and forces them apart.

“Ow. Shit.”

Her hand throbs, but the feeling fades away with each pulse. It burns and ash seems to sting the back of her mouth, like the lingering effects of a spell. She glances at Josie, but finds the brunette babbling mindlessly to her sister.

Huh.

Hope shakes her hand out until the feeling goes away completely. That was weird.

“Must’ve been static.” She brushes it off and puts her hands back into her pockets so Landon can no longer get to them.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He rubs his palms against the material of his pants.

Hope has to get on her tippy toes to see the sign and read the various beverage choices. She may just go with a simple black coffee instead of anything too fancy. Maybe they have croissants?

It’s not that Hope is watching Josie, because she isn’t, but she notices Josie getting up and leaving the shop without her sister.

“What do you want?” Landon nudges Hope and she looks forward. She hadn’t realized how far up they’d gotten in the line. The employee behind the register is watching her expectantly.

“Oh. Can I have a small black coffee, please?”

The employee nods and jots it down.

Hope glances over her shoulder again. Josie still isn’t there. She wonders why the twins would go anywhere without each other.

Lizzie is talking to someone else now, a blonde girl in a MFHS jacket. The conversation looks to be getting heated, judging by the rising volume of their voices and their body language. Hope tries to listen in, ears straining.

“You’re such a bitch, Dana.”

Dana knocks over the iced coffee into Lizzie’s lap and it spills everywhere, across the floor and on Lizzie’s outfit. Lizzie shoots out of her chair furiously. There’s a second where Hope thinks that the two girls might get into a fight, but Lizzie scurries off in the opposite direction and into the bathroom.

Well. Karma.

Hope watches the whole situation, feeling mildly amused. She expects Josie to return soon and comfort Lizzie, but some time passes and Josie never shows up.

By the time Hope has her drink, Josie still isn’t there.

Surely, Lizzie would call her sister, especially now that Caroline permitted cell phones. Surely, Josie would want someone to go comfort Lizzie.

Maybe Josie would forgive her for everything if she could cheer Lizzie up?

“I’ll be right back.” Hope tells Landon.

He looks confused but nods. “Okay, I’ll be here.”

Hope follows after Lizzie and almost immediately regrets it as she enters the restroom.

_“Incutio!”_

The spell hits her straight in the chest and sends her flying to the floor. Hope lands with a bang. It pounds against her skin, sharp needles of pain spreading throughout her body. The magic feels stiflingly hot and unfamiliar as it rolls over her, to the point of making Hope nauseous. She stays on the ground for a solid minute, able to move but not wanting to. Her head is spinning.

Oh, right.

She forgot that Lizzie thinks of her as a threat.

Rule number one of the magical world: never mess with a witch.

“Ow.” Hope mumbles weakly.

She stands up on shaky legs, wobbling slightly and gripping the wall in order to stay balanced.

“Come to try and attack me at my weakest, Mikaelson?” Lizzie leans against the row of sinks. Her blouse is still stained.

“That was unnecessary.” Hope grumbles. Fuck. It still hurts so bad. She mutters another complaint under her breath. “I’m not here to attack you. Why do you think I’m out for revenge?”

“People are usually wary of murderers.”

Hope scoffs. “I just came to see if you were okay, but fine. Whatever.”

This was a bad idea. Hope spilled her coffee and everything, and for what? Lizzie Saltzman? Ugh.

“I know you like my sister!” Lizzie calls, before Hope is able to get away.

Hope freezes.

No. There is no way Lizzie knows, because no one knows. Hope has been discreet. She hasn’t done anything too obvious.

Hope turns around, facing a very smug Lizzie. She crosses her arms over her chest.

“No, I don’t.”

Lizzie ignores her. “You need to do better than cheap apologies if you want to impress Josie. Coming in here to check on me gets you brownie points, but you’ll have to try something else.”

“I don’t like her.” Hope shakes her head. Her tone turns pleading and she clears her throat. “I _don’t_.”

“Oh please, your crush is glaringly obvious. Josie can’t even get a coffee without you lurking in her shadow.”

_Lurking?_

Hope doesn’t lurk. She doesn’t.

“I’d suggest jewelry.” Lizzie continues. She wipes her hand over her blouse and the stain casually disappears. Damn. Magic. “Not that I think it’d ever work between you two. At least, not while I’m alive and you’re still hanging around with Mr. KFC out there.”

Hope rolls her eyes and leaves. This was a huge waste of time.

When she gets outside, she spots Maya standing next to Landon. Landon looks uncomfortable, his posture slightly stiff, but Maya doesn’t seem to notice. She’s talking his ear off, babbling about something that Hope doesn’t quite catch.

Maya grins once she sees Hope. “Oh, hey, Hope! I thought you guys would want some company shopping. You don’t mind, do you Landon?”

“Uh… no?” His response comes out as more of a question.

Maya smiles wider, apparently satisfied by this answer, and leans up to sling her arm around Hope’s shoulders. Hope didn’t know Maya was coming today, but it’s a welcome surprise.

They continue shopping as a trio. Maya wants to get copious amounts of ice cream and some type of fried, spicy food that Hope refuses to try. They hop from store to store. At one point, they come across a tiny shop that sells different plants and stress-relieving items. Hope ends up buying a miniature stress-relief toy and tucking it in her pocket before the others can see.

As they move through the town, Hope keeps an eye out for Josie—she turns her head at every giggle that she hears, does circles around the plant section in the shop, and lingers near every brunette she sees—but never finds her.

In the jewelry store, Hope finds a necklace with a silver chain, trailing down to a beautifully detailed talisman. She weighs it in her hand for a while.

_I’d suggest jewelry._

Had Lizzie been messing with her or does Josie actually like jewelry?

Hope tries to imagine how it would look on Josie. The chain circling a slender neck, dangling down sharp collarbones so the talisman would fall right on Josie’s chest.

She buys it.

—

“Bye, Maya!”

“Bye!”

Maya waves as she walks in the other direction, towards her brother, and disappears from Hope’s view.

She intends to say something similar to Landon, but he beats her to it before she can get a single word out.

“Can I walk you to your room?” Landon looks a mixture of restless, anxious, and impatient.

His intense stare kind of scares Hope, but she nods anyways. “Sure… I guess.”

“Cool, cool.”

Hope lets Landon walk her, although she spends more time leading him than he does her, since Landon doesn’t actually know where her room is. She brushes her fingers over the doorknob once they get there. Hope wonders if Josie is already inside.

“You had a good time, right?” Landon bounces up and down on his feet slowly. “It was fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, cool.” Swiftly, he leans down to kiss her. She turns her head so his lips land somewhere on her cheek.

Landon seems pretty pleased with himself and smiles crookedly at her before dashing away.

Well, that was… awkward.

Hope should probably do something about that and clarify some things. Later. Now, she wants to do what she has been looking forward to all day: seeing Josie.

Stepping into the room and seeing Josie on the bed feels like finally returning home after years spent in hell. She hadn’t been able to keep the other girl off her brain all day and the relief that floods her is almost surprising. Josie is holding a large book in her hands (the History of Magic), the pages worn-out from continuous use. Her pajama top is slightly too big for her and the sleeves reach her knuckles. Hope takes a brief second to admire the cute sight before shutting the door.

“Hey.” She greets, feeling mildly timid. Josie has been kind of all over the place with Hope lately and she isn’t sure what to expect.

Hope is happy to see Josie start to close her book. Maybe she’s getting her full attention for once?

“I thought you weren’t dating Landon.” Josie sets the book aside. Her voice lacks its usual warmth.

“I’m not.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Hope.” Josie replies, getting up from the bed. Hope watches, far too confused to form a proper response. Josie goes into the bathroom.

Hope waits for her to get out.

After a while, it becomes apparent that Josie is just shutting herself in there to avoid talking.

Hope sighs and flops down on her bed back-first, landing with a quiet thud. What did she do wrong this time? She digs in her jean pocket and brings the talisman out, weighing it in her hands. Hope falls asleep just like that, with it clenched in her palm.

—

About a week passes of the same events: Josie is always in the room physically, but not mentally. Hope usually endures around a half hour of homework and _accidentally making awkward, yet intense eye contact with Josie Saltzman_ before she runs off to the library.

It’s ridiculous.

Everything about living with Josie is infuriating in ways Hope never expected. She never gets what she wants from Josie—no hello, no goodbye, no words at all on most days—and yet she also gets more than enough. Hope will walk into the room, only to be hit by a cloud of Josie’s fancy perfume. She’ll be able to hear the rustling sounds of Josie moving around in the bathroom late at night and end up accidentally humming along to a song that Josie is singing in the shower.

It’s torture.

And yet, Hope wouldn’t change it, because she’s grateful just to be so close to her.

On several occasions, Josie seems to forget that shirts exist. She has no problem lounging around in a bra and shorts throughout most of the week, like it’s a casual thing, like it isn’t driving Hope to insanity. Hope vividly remembers one day, when she was studying for a math test, that she looked up at the wrong (right?) time and got completely sidetracked by tan skin and a lacy, red bra. She failed that math test. Fuck that test. Fuck that bra.

Hope decides it would probably be best to start studying in the library or in Landon’s room. His roommate is apparently a ghost (not literally, to be clear) and he doesn’t distract Hope nearly as much as Josie does.

Every time Hope leaves, she says, “I’m going to Landon’s.”

Josie rarely responds, but she does frequently look as if she wants to murder someone.

Sometimes, Hope will picture Josie’s eyes, dark and hooded, and not be able to tell if the bra or the glare affected her more. Both of them give her the exact same feeling—fire in the pit of her stomach, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

That’s torture, too, just a different type of it.

Hope is in the hallway, on the way to her room, when she hears familiar voices. She doesn’t think twice about it, because the school is full of familiar voices, but she probably should have.

The door to her room is unlocked, and she walks in on a rather heavy make out session between Penelope and Josie. Again.

She makes a quiet noise of surprise.

Apparently, it doesn’t matter how quiet Hope is, Josie’s eyes snap to meet hers immediately. Her gaze lingers, dark and heavy, on Hope for a split second before she shoves Penelope’s head to her throat. Josie arches up into every little touch, her skin flushed and pretty, her mouth releasing these breathy, needy sounds, and _oh_ , Hope should look away. She shouldn’t follow along in Josie’s ploy to piss her off. She looks away—forces her eyes past that short skirt Josie’s wearing—and glues her gaze to the mattress.

They’re on her bed.

_Hope’s bed._

She doesn’t black out. It’s just like she described earlier, like a movie. She loses control.

Hope grabs Penelope by the arm and drags her out of the room, shoving her into the hallway. She chucks Penelope’s balled up clothes at her chest and slams the door in her face, hard enough that the wood splinters slightly under the force of it.

When she calms down, her hands are trembling and Josie is furiously rambling.

“What the hell, Hope?” Josie pulls a shirt on. Her head pops out of it, hair tousled. “You had no right to do that.”

“It’s my room, too, and I’m tired of you acting like it isn’t.” Hope snaps, ignoring how Josie’s eyes widen slightly at her tone.

The surprise wears off quickly and soon Josie is standing in front of her. “I thought you’d be busy with your boyfriend.”

“I told you, he’s not my boyfriend, and you’re one to talk. You can’t go five seconds without getting a tongue bath from Park.” Hope can barely keep the low rumble out of her voice, the growl that threatens to come up.

Josie stares at her.

It’s subtle, really, but Hope notices immediately when a smile flickers at the edge of Josie’s lips. She looks almost… amused. Her eyes become darker than the depths of an ocean, nearly black in their color.

“Oh, Hope.” She coos, tone sickly sweet. “That’s so cute. You’re jealous.”

Hope seethes. “No, I’m not.”

Josie steps into her personal space without even hesitating and pokes Hope’s shoulder. She drags her finger over a sensitive spot on Hope’s throat and Hope nearly jumps out of her skin, all of the air in her lungs pushed out by the slight contact. Her nerves tingle where Josie touches her. She would berate herself for being so easily affected, but her attention is on Josie. Something seems so different about her.

“It’s adorable, really.” Josie strokes her thumb along Hope’s jaw. Hope nearly purrs, she’s that desperate. Josie smirks, apparently pleased with the reaction. “You know, if you want to kiss me, you should just do it.”

“I… um… what?” Hope feels like she accidentally swallowed her own tongue.

Kiss Josie?

Hope glances down at Josie’s mouth, at her full bottom lip and the bruised red color of it.

Yes, she wants to do that very much.

“C’mon, Hopey.” Josie whispers, in a voice like fire and with eyes like the night. “Take what you want.”

Hope surges forward and covers Josie’s mouth with her own.

It doesn’t feel the way she thought it would. Josie doesn’t kiss her sweetly or taste like sugar—it’s rough and wanton, Josie’s mouth sliding against her own the way a knife drags over skin. Josie’s lips are soft and her mouth is hot, but underneath that there’s something different. Something dark. But it’s good. It’s so, so _good_ and Hope is a slave to her desires. Hope clings to Josie, gripping her hips hard and melting into her.

It’s all over in the blink of an eye.

Josie shoves her away. Hope stumbles away, not fully grasping what’s going on. Josie blinks slowly and brushes her fingers over her lips, as if she’s confused.

“I’m sorry.” Josie blurts, her eyes dancing around wildly. Hope itches to reach out to her, to ask if she’s okay. “I didn't mean to… I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Josie stumbles out the door, leaving Hope in the middle of the room, alone.

What the hell just happened?

Josie Saltzman is very, very confusing.

She stares at the closed door for a long moment before sinking down to the floor. Hope’s head is rushing from her rapid thoughts and the lingering bruise of Josie’s lips. Fuck. Hope leans against Josie’s bed and feels something dig sharply into her back. She takes whatever the object is out from under Josie’s bed.

It looks similar to an hourglass, except it contains swirls of a black, floating substance that seems to sparkle in the light. It looks like a witch thing. Hope slides it back under Josie’s bed.

It’s none of her business.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s quiet.

The moonlight leaks in through the open window, painting Hope’s skin a faint grey color. Hope lays stiffly in the middle of her bed, eyes determinedly set on the ceiling. Her body feels unreasonably hot, despite the chill in her room, and though the world has settled into stillness, her heart can only beat restlessly.

She looks over at a sleeping Josie.

It almost feels like a crime to look at her, as if it’s wrong for Hope to care so much about someone.

She continues to stare anyways.

Josie lays in a ball on her side, tucked under her bedsheets and clutching at a pillow. Her lips are parted just slightly, tiny puffs of air moving in and out of her mouth as she sleeps. It’s really hard to see her. Most of her body is cloaked in the dark, hidden under a lingering shadow. Out of reach.

Something flickers in Hope’s chest—the familiar, aching feeling of longing—warm and unbidden, and she hurriedly twists away to face the wall.

The feeling leaves her horribly unsettled. Hope’s stomach ties itself into a jumbled knot and twists tighter the more she tries to ignore it. Hope shifts from side to side restlessly, attempting to get into a comfortable position. She keeps her eyes shut and pretends that it’s easy to sleep, that it’s easy to see black behind her eyelids instead of Josie’s facial features.

A quiet noise comes from across the room. Hope ignores the whimpering sound until it gets louder.

Hope turns back onto her side and faces Josie again. Josie whimpers in her sleep, mumbling something muffled that Hope can’t quite catch. Her face pinches up into a troubled expression and her grip on the pillow tightens, her knuckles turning white with the force of it. A light sheen of sweat shows across her forehead.

“Josie?”

Josie makes a distressed noise in response. She says no actual words.

“Jo?” Hope sits up. Her fingers itch to reach out and touch Josie, maybe smooth a hand down her back to soothe her a little. She keeps those ideas at bay, along with every other protective feeling that bubbles up inside of her.

Josie sits up abruptly, her eyes open. She stares at a blank spot on the wall for a second and then screams.

Hope flinches in surprise. The scream seems to rip Josie into full consciousness. Her previously slack muscles flail wildly and she falls right out of the bed, kicking and yelling at the space around her like it’s a threat. Hope runs across the room in a second

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s just me.” Hope reassures her gently. She cradles Josie closely against her until she calms down enough to stop screaming.

Josie trembles in her arms. “She was right there. I saw her.”

“Who?”

“Me.” Josie sounds terrified. She points wildly at the dark space around them.

Hope is completely sure that there is no one else in the room. She’s been awake for the past hour or so and hasn’t heard anyone enter their room. To prove her point and, hopefully, settle Josie’s nerves a bit, Hope stands up and flips on a light switch. The room brightness up immediately, the darkness disappearing and showing that there’s nothing lurking in the shadows.

No one is there. Just Josie and Hope.

“See?” She opens the bathroom door and moves around the curtains for good measure. “It’s safe.”

Josie only seems to curl into herself more.

“Oh.”

Hope’s hands twitch at her sides. She yearns to wrap herself around Josie protectively and keep her away from the dark, but she isn’t sure if she can punch nightmares. She feels useless. Josie stares up at her from the floor, like she expects something, and all Hope can think to do is stare back. Josie’s skin is a pale white color, slickened by sweat and tears. Her eyes are still blown wide with fear.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?” Hope walks over to stand nearby Josie. “Can I pick you up?”

Josie hesitates for a moment before she nods.

Hope puts her arm under Josie’s knees and lifts her up bridal style. Josie clings to the front of her shirt. Hope sets her down on the bed and makes sure she’s comfortable before pulling the covers up around her neck.

“I’m going to turn the lights off, okay?” Hope asks and slowly creeps towards the switch.

“Wait.” Josie croaks out. Her voice is raw from all of the screaming. She clears her throat and looks down, maybe a little embarrassed. “Can we keep it on for tonight?”

“Sure.” Hope drops her hand.

Hope lingers nearby, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. Just a few days ago, Josie had shoved her away and fled the room. Now, Josie is staring right at her—pupils blown wide, arms wrapped tight around her knees, lower lip bitten a crimson red. Hope can hear her heart pounding away in her ears.

She wishes she didn’t want things so strongly.

Josie’s throat moves like she’s trying to swallow a blade. “Do you think that you could…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think that you could lay with me for a bit, just until I fall asleep?” Josie picks at her sheets.

Hope should say no.

She really should.

“Sure.” Hope nods and tries her hardest to ignore how her bones have stiffened with awkwardness. She isn’t really the most affectionate person. The thought of sharing a bed with another person is foreign to her.

Hope lifts up the sheets and slips under them, a buzzing feeling settling in her chest. She tries to take up as little space as possible, curled into a semi-circle. Her muscles feel stiff. It’s worse with the lights on. She’s starting to get the sense that Josie can sense how nervous she is.

All of a sudden, Josie turns around and fists her hand in Hope’s shirt to tug her closer.

Hope exhales, the knot in her chest loosening.

If Josie’s worst nightmare is herself, then at least her and Hope have something in common.

—

Hope wakes up to the quiet sound of breathing and Josie’s scent. She inhales deeply and is hit by such a potent wave of bliss that she snuggles closer without a second thought. Hope mumbles something appreciative under her breath, feeling a gentle warmth roll over her.

It takes her a while to fully realize where she is and what she’s doing. She blinks herself awake, eyelids heavy, and waits until her vision clears up enough to see properly.

Josie curls up like a kitten, still sleeping, pressed firmly against Hope’s body.

Hope can’t shake the feeling that this is how her life is supposed to be. This is right. In the golden haze of the morning, while she is barely awake, Hope allows her mind to wander. She thinks of waking up every morning just like this, caught in the moment, surrounded by all things Josie. The tan skin, the gentle features, the dark brown hair splayed out over pink pillows, the rare feeling of safety. All of it. Hope wants everything.

Josie’s eyes flutter open.

“Hope?” She yawns and her face scrunches up a moment later. It’s unfairly cute. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Hope whispers back.

She watches Josie slowly start to wake up and realize her surroundings. Hope’s fantasy breaks right before her eyes, as she expected it to, and she shrinks away as Josie’s expression begins to go from sleepy to confused.

“I’m going to go for a run.” Hope says, attempting to excuse herself. She barely gets an inch away.

“No. Stay.” Josie tugs once at the collar of Hope’s shirt and Hope stills. Her eyes drop to Josie’s lips accidentally, remembering the last time they were this close, and when she raises her eyes, Josie’s gaze is much more heated than before—though, ultimately, she looks tired. “My mom told me what you did for Lizzie. I didn’t know she grabbed you first. You could have told the truth.”

Wait.

How did Caroline know that Hope was lying?

Seeming to read her mind, Josie smirks slightly and pokes Hope’s chest. “Vampire hearing. She can hear your heartbeat jump when you lie.”

Josie’s finger lingers, held against Hope’s heart for far too long. Hope swallows hard.

“That or I’m just a shitty liar.” Hope jokes and grins when she gets a chuckle out of Josie. She listens to the sound greedily, tries to commit it to memory.

“No, but really.” Josie continues. “Why didn’t you get Lizzie in trouble?”

Hope shrugs. Tries to remain casual. “I guess I just wanted to do some good for once.”

Fuck. Her words carry way too much emotion. It doesn’t help that her voice is still low and raspy from sleeping. Josie picks up on it immediately, brown eyes dancing across Hope’s face. Hope resists the urge to hide and instead lets Josie look at her, although she feels very exposed.

“You’re good, Hope.” Josie whispers, after a beat of silence.

The moment burns between them. An invisible weight hangs in the surrounding space, pulling strongly at Hope’s insides.

Hope wants to kiss her.

Again.

And again.

Maybe three times. Maybe infinitely.

“God, I’ve been such a dick to you.” Josie flips on her back to face the ceiling. The invisible tether between them snaps in half. “I’ve been treating you horribly. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t even remember… you know what? It really doesn’t matter. What matters is, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but I’m going to make it up to you.” Josie drums her fingers against her stomach. “Can we just forget everything and start over?”

“Everything?” Hope asks, eyeing Josie’s lips. Her heart trembles soundlessly in her chest.

Forget everything?

They kissed. Hope will never be able to wipe that from her memory. It will stay in her brain until she meets her end.

Josie nods. “Everything.”

On the other hand, forgetting everything seems awfully tempting. Hope has done a million things she would like to forget about. The idea of getting a fresh start with someone is too perfect to pass up. She makes her decision.

“Okay. Fresh start.” Hope holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Hope Mikaelson.”

Josie giggles and smiles brightly.

“Hi, Hope Mikaelson. I’m Josie Saltzman.” They shake hands. When Josie squeezes her palm, Hope squeezes right back.

They stay in bed for a couple more minutes, just enjoying each other’s company and talking about mundane things. Hope tells Josie all about what wolf classes are like—it’s hard to describe the pack mentality to someone outside of it, but Josie has no problem listening—and Josie rambles on about some complicated spell that she’s working on. They only crawl out of bed when it becomes apparent that they’ll be late for breakfast if they don’t leave.

They both dress in silence, on opposite sides of the room, and Hope holds her breath the entire time.

It’s weird being around Josie, but it’s also nice.

Fun.

Hope can feel the warm remnants of friendship building in her gut, gathering like hot coals. She tells herself it’s enough for now and lies blatantly to herself about not wanting more.

Josie sticks around while they exit the room and follows Hope down the stairs, but they part ways in the dining hall.

Hope swallows her disappointment.

“Hey, M.” Hope calls as she spots Maya sitting at a table nearby. She plops down next to her.

“Hey.” Maya smiles tiredly around a mouthful of bacon. She rubs at her neck, just above the red, flashy tie around her collar. It looks familiar, but Hope can’t place it.

“Is that new?” She asks and taps the tie.

Maya shrugs quickly. “Since when do you give a shit about fashion?”

“I don’t. Just curious.”

“Well, be less curious.” Maya says it with no real malice, but Hope can take a hint. She drums her fingers against the table and stares off at the too long lunch line, instead of looking at Maya.

Hope swears that she’s seen Lizzie wear that tie before.

Speaking of Lizzie, the blonde is walking towards their table right now, arm in arm with Josie. Hope can’t hide her surprise as she sees them getting closer, and ducks her head at the last minute so she seems unaffected. Maya is doing something similar, shoveling strips of meat into her mouth rapidly.

The twins pause about an inch away from their table, hurriedly whispering things to each other.

Josie balances a large plate of bacon strips and sausages, and a bowl of fruit, in one hand. She uses her other hand to shove Lizzie forward.

“Do it.” Josie whisper-hisses.

Lizzie glances back at her sister. She looks like she would rather be anywhere else right now.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Lizzie blurts out.

Hope raises her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re sorry for what?”

Lizzie stares at Hope, and well, if looks could kill…

“I’m sorry for grabbing you in P.E.” Lizzie grits out through clenched teeth.

Hope doesn’t bother to fight her smile. She’s kind of enjoying this. She glances at Maya to see if her friend is sharing in the enjoyment, but Maya’s gaze is firmly set on the floor.

“And for using that spell on you.” Lizzie tacks on, mumbling her sentence under her breath.

“Lizzie!” Josie jabs her sister’s side with a plate. “What spell did you use?”

Lizzie keeps her mouth shut.

Hope’s eyebrows pinch together as she tries to remember what it was. “In...incut, uh…”

“Incutio.” Josie finishes for her. “Lizzie, why would you do that?”

“I thought she was going to attack me!”

“In a public bathroom?”

“Who knows what kind of weird kinks Mikaelson has. You can’t be too careful.” Lizzie sends Hope a look that one would give to a sewer rat. Ugh.

Hope ignores Lizzie’s comment. Her kinks aren’t weird. They’re perfectly normal.

Lizzie claps her hands together. “Alright, I did it. I apologized, now I’m out. Josie, have fun with the dog. Maya…”

Maya and Lizzie hold eye contact for a second.

“See you later.” Lizzie finishes and turns on her heel, leaving Josie behind.

Josie sets her plates down on the table and sits across from Hope. A giddy feeling swells inside of Hope’s chest. She didn’t expect Josie to join them.

“I thought you were a vegetarian.” Hope points out, in regards to the small mountain of meat on Josie’s plate.

“I am.” She slides the plate across the table. “It’s for you.”

Hope picks up a bacon strip, fighting a smile.

“Oh. Thanks.”

—

Josie is wearing her favorite sweater today.

Hope can see it from here—here, being the chair in the grand hall that Maya and Landon saved for her—and has no problem spotting the blindingly bright, yellow fabric. It stands out clearly amongst a sea of dimmer colors. Hope knows that Josie’s mom knitted that sweater and can vaguely recall Josie wearing it during their childhood. It hung a little too low on Josie’s arms back then—sleeves down to her knuckles or baggy and bunched up around her biceps—but Josie has gotten taller, and now it fits perfectly.

“What do you think the assembly is for?” Landon asks, picking at a loose string on his flannel. “It’s not time for the football game yet, is it?”

“It’s a little early for the game.” Hope shrugs. She thinks the game is in a few weeks.

“It’s probably just another pep talk.” Maya chimes in. Everyone is quickly learning that Caroline is big on encouraging speeches. “But we do need to find a new player with Alyssa gone. Maybe a wolf. The team could use some aggression.”

Aggression is not what the team needs at all.

A smile crawls across Hope’s face as she thinks about the last game they had. She never played, but she sat on the sidelines—occasionally Hope would cheer, just to see Alyssa roll her eyes or smile—and watched. It was always too hot out, no one ever played very well, and every single game ended in some type of fight.

Hope sometimes thinks that she could’ve fallen in love with Alyssa, if they dated for longer. She liked how whenever she was acting up, Alyssa was never afraid to call her out on it. She liked being watched by someone, being cared for.

The smile slowly slips off of Hope’s face as she gets lost in her thoughts.

Maya seems to notice. “Shit, Hope. I didn’t mean to bring up any—“

“It’s fine.” Hope assures her, nodding, her throat tight.

The sound of Caroline clearing her throat into the microphone fills the grand hall, the slight crackle of the speakers catching everyone’s attention. It makes a couple of the vampires wince. A wolf in the front row rubs at his ear. The witches seem entirely unaffected.

“Settle down, students. I have an announcement to make. I’ll try to be quick about this…” Caroline trails off to flip through the excessively large binder in her arms.

Great.

“I think her definition of quick is different from the rest of the world’s.” Landon murmurs under his breath. Hope shoots him a smirk and he beams back at her.

Caroline continues. “I know that we’re not very far into the year, but I’m proud of the direction the school is heading in. I recognize that you all have been trying your best to make the new roommate assignments work out well, and that deserves to be celebrated. This year, we’re going to have a Halloween dance.”

The energy in the room turns to pure excitement and eagerness. The sudden surge of enthusiasm is palpable. Wolves start to jostle each other and cheer. Some of the vampires huddle together to whisper their plans. The witches clap and giggle. The entire student body seems to brighten up in a second and Caroline leans away from her mic, pleased with her work. Josie leans over to say something to Lizzie, her smile unrestrained and relaxed. She laughs loudly enough for Hope to hear it and grin.

“Costumes are mandatory. I encourage you all to show some creativity and not pick something too obvious. Meaning, no vamps dressed as Dracula or witches with brooms.” Caroline shoots a look at the crowd and a few people chuckle. “You can, of course, bring a date. No MFHS students are permitted, but everyone here is welcome.”

Next to her, Landon shifts in his seat, his eyes darting to Hope briefly.

“I would also like to discuss the upcoming game, as I know you’ve all been thinking about it…”

Hope tunes her out.

Her mind slips back to last Halloween, which she spent in Brock’s room, passing around a whiskey bottle with the rest of the pack. She’ll probably do the same this year and then go back to her room, instead of the dance. Extremely loud music and drunk idiots on a dance floor isn’t really her thing.

Hope notices Maya zoning out beside her. She taps her arm. “You thinking about asking anyone out?”

“Probably not.” Maya’s gaze snaps away from whatever she was looking at. She slings an arm around Hope’s shoulders. “You know you’re the only one for me, Hopey. You’ve got my heart!”

Maya smacks a wet kiss against Hope’s cheek.

Hope laughs and leans away to rub the saliva off of her skin with her sleeve. A few people around them give them odd looks, but Maya just sticks her tongue out at them and tugs Hope closer.

“You haven’t even asked yet.” Hope says jokingly and Maya grins.

“I’m planning a whole proposal.” She whispers, in the same tone of voice. “Don’t worry.”

Hope tilts her head when she laughs and catches Josie’s eye. Josie watches them, her expression unreadable. Hope’s grin twitches down for a split second and her stomach swoops to the floor, but rises back up again as they break eye contact. It leaves a strange feeling buzzing underneath her skin.

The rest of the day isn’t nearly as eventful.

Her classes pass slowly and the students return to their usual, boring attitudes once the buzz of this morning’s news wears off. It’s just a regular day. Hope gets through all of her classes except for her last one, physical education.

Their teacher hands out wooden staffs to each of the students and tells them to pair up.

Hope is standing around alone when Josie joins her, holding a staff of her own. She lightly jabs Hope in the side with it.

“Prepare to get your ass kicked.” Josie says, her tone light and teasing.

Hope smirks. “You’re holding your staff wrong.”

Josie frowns and looks downwards. She adjusts her hands to a different, worse position and looks up at Hope again.

“Better?”

“Well…” Hope doesn’t want to accidentally wipe the proud expression off of Josie’s face. “No. Let me show you.”

Hope steps forward and adjusts Josie’s hands so they fit on the staff properly. Her fingers linger for a second too long.

“Mikaelson!” Lizzie yells. “Stop groping my sister.”

Hope yanks her hands back, her face warm.

Josie and Hope half-spar for the rest of the class, talking idly to each other and leisurely hitting their staffs together. Time seems to fly by with Josie. It isn’t long before class ends and they head up to their room again.

Once they’re inside, Hope closes the door and Josie flops, boneless and tired, onto her bed.

“How are you not exhausted?” Josie questions. Her eyes are barely open.

Hope shrugs. “Wolf stamina.”

What she doesn’t say is that she’s actually more than a little tired. Hope doesn’t want to let Josie know that she hasn’t been sleeping well lately, though she isn’t sure why. She already knows that Josie hasn’t been sleeping well either.

They slept fine when they cuddled.

Hope fills with warmth at the memory. She stands by Josie’s bed instead of going over to her own, quietly thinking about it. If she wanted to cuddle more, how would she ask? Would Josie be okay with that? What is she supposed to say?

While Hope is thinking about it, someone knocks on the door. It’s clearly for Josie—almost no one visits Hope—but Josie looks close to sleeping.

“It’s for you.” Hope says.

Josie keeps her eyes closed. “I’m unconscious.”

“Drama queen.”

Hope opens the door and isn’t surprised to find MG on the other side. He sure looks surprised to see her. MG forgets to keep the shock off of his face and backs up slightly.

She wonders if he thinks of her as a threat.

“Uh.” MG clears his throat and glances past her, into the room. “Can I talk to Josie?”

Hope opens the door wider so he can come in, but he seems content with yelling at Josie from the hallway.

“Lizzie and I are gonna watch Green Lantern. Do you want to join us, Joey?” MG asks.

Joey?

What kind of nickname is that?

Hope shifts from side to side on her feet, feeling oddly uncomfortable with his presence.

“No, thanks. I’m kind of tired.” Josie yawns for emphasis and MG smiles good-naturedly. “I’ll catch you later, though.”

“Alright, no worries.” He’s about to leave when he pauses and comes closer. “Oh, can I have those notes now?”

Josie stares at him blankly.

“The notes… from Mr. Carter’s class? You said I could borrow them.” MG clarifies slowly.

“I did?”

“You did.”

Josie continues to stare at him, as if she has no idea what he’s talking about, before she seems to remember. She nods and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Josie searches for the notes for a minute before finding them on her desk and handing them to MG.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” MG tucks the notes under his arm.

“Yeah.” Josie smiles in the thin way that she does when she doesn’t want to talk. “I’m just tired.”

MG accepts that answer and they exchange a few more words before they say goodbye. Josie shuts the door behind her and faces Hope, who had been standing around aimlessly.

“You want to watch a movie?”

Hope nods. “Sure.”

Josie gets her laptop and crawls onto Hope’s bed without hesitation. Hope is far more stiff about it, but she settles down some while Josie searches for a movie to watch. Hope is sure that they are going to end up watching a Disney film, and isn’t surprised when the opening to the Princess and the Frog starts playing.

Hope turns on her side—not to get a better view of the screen, but to see the faint blue light wash over Josie’s relaxed smile.

Josie catches her looking and smiles wider. She scoots closer, leaning into Hope’s side.

“You’re always so warm.” Josie comments and links her arm around Hope’s. Hope barely holds back a pleased hum at the contact.

—

“Are you feeling restless about the full moon?” Emma questions, in the same gentle tone of voice she always uses.

Hope shakes her head. “No.”

“What about the game?”

“Nope.” She blows a large puff of air out of her mouth. “I’m actually feeling really good.”

—

The library is nearly empty. Hope and Landon sit in silence, their table cloaked under the flickering orange glow of the dim lights above them. Hope tucks her pen behind her ear as she flips through her textbook. She frowns at one of the pages.

“Seriously.” Hope mutters, mostly to herself, but Landon raises his head anyways. “Who even knows Latin?”

“I do.” Landon sits up and plucks the textbook out of Hope’s hands.

“What’s it say?”

“Uh… it’s saying that you should take a break and come get snacks from the kitchen with me.” He smiles at her, but Hope sends him a dry look. Landon puts his hands up in surrender. “Fine. It’s an ancient mantra wolves used to use to try and calm themselves down before the full moon.”

He hands her back the book. Hope peers down at the page, tracing her finger over the words.

_Quod verum, quod solem, quod lunam_.

Huh.

That could be useful.

Hope jots it down in her notebook. She can feel Landon’s eyes on her while she writes. Instead of meeting his eye, she continues to trace over the letters mindlessly.

The quiet clicking sound of heels hitting the floor greets Hope’s ears. She assumes it’s one of the witches—Alyssa used to always wear them, and it sort of became a trend—and turns her head at the noise.

Her mouth immediately goes dry.

Josie stands on the other side of the room with her hand on her hip, bag slung across her body, talking to the librarian. Her heels are cherry red and shiny, as if brand new, and her long legs lead up to a sinfully revealing skirt. Hope stares, in a lust-filled trance, as Josie bends down to get a book off a lower shelf.

It’s not her usual attire.

Hope likes it. Really likes it, if the way her skin flushes and her brain blanks is any indication.

Her fingers curl under the table, overcome with the need to reach out and _touch_. She digs her nails into her palms to avoid doing anything she shouldn’t, but her fingers still shake with want.

Fuck.

Since Josie can’t see, Hope risks another glance in her direction. Dark blue eyes and dilated pupils trace over tan skin before Hope forces her gaze away. She stares at her own feet, blood pulsing beneath her boiling skin.

“Are you okay?” Landon asks her.

Hope nods. “Mhmm.”

“You sure?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay.”

Hope swallows, hard still staring at the floor, her mouth very, very dry. Damn it.

Landon continues to watch her. “Do you want to go to the Halloween dance with me?”

“Mhmm.”

Why can’t Josie invest in long pants and—

Wait. Shit. Fuck.

“Really? Great.” Landon stands up, collecting his books. Hope gapes at the excited expression on his face. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you soon.”

Hope’s lips part in surprise as she stares after his retreating figure. Shit. What is she supposed to tell him now? That she accidentally agreed cause she was busy staring at Josie’s ass? No way.

Damn it.

She’ll have to come up with an excuse somehow.

Hope turns her head from right to left, searching the library for Josie, but the other girl is nowhere to be found. Disappointed, Hope returns her attention to her homework.

An hour passes. Hope finishes most of her work and gets in a bit of studying, too. Multiple people come and go, but none of them are Josie. Hope decides to get up and look for her. She assumes that Josie is somewhere in the back of the library and probably reading a book or something. Hope walks through each aisle, searching for any sign of her, and eventually finds Josie sitting alone in the Ancestral Magic aisle.

As Hope gets closer, she realizes that Josie is asleep. Josie’s head is slumped to the side, her eyes closed, a book laying open in her lap.

Hope smiles fondly at the sight.

She watches Josie sleep for a minute longer until it starts to get creepy and she realizes that they are getting close to breaking curfew. Hope grabs the book out of Josie’s hands and lifts it slowly. It feels old, the leather cover of it thin and torn. She reads the page it’s open to.

_Black Magic, also known as the Dark Arts, is an extremely powerful form of witchcraft that draws on sinister forces. This form of magic is typically used to harm, injure, or kill, and to cause chaos or destruction. Such magic upsets the balance of nature. The practitioner must tap into a place of horror inside of their soul, which can result in dire consequences. Some symptoms include rashes, memory loss, increased irritability, loss of control over actions and natural magic…_

“What are you doing?” Josie’s voice breaks Hope out of her thoughts.

Hope startles slightly and sets the book aside, on a shelf nearby. Josie’s eyes follow the action.

“I was just about to wake you up.” Hope explains and squats down low, so she is at eye level with Josie. “It’s almost past curfew. We should go or we’re going to get in trouble.”

Josie nods around a yawn and gets to her feet slowly. She stretches her arms high in the air, and her back cracks.

Hope wrinkles her nose at the noise.

“Don’t be a baby.” Josie rolls her eyes, noticing Hope’s expression. She bumps her arm against Hope’s side and swipes the book off the shelf. “Come on, let’s go.”

Hope watches with narrowed eyes. “What do you need that for?”

“School project. Come on.” Josie holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers. Hope jumps at the opportunity to hold her hand.

Their hands stay loosely intertwined, shoulders and arms brushing as they walk into the hallway. The simple touch burns Hope’s skin, leaves it a lot warmer than it usually is. She’s thankful that the halls are empty and no one is there to see how red her skin probably is.

Hope hears footsteps approaching them.

Her feet come to such a sudden halt that Josie, still holding her hand, stumbles ahead and nearly trips.

“Someone’s coming.” Hope tells her, focusing on the sound. Damn it. It’s so late that no one else should be out of their rooms right now. It must be the hall monitor. “We should hide.”

She refuses to get in trouble again.

Josie tugs at their joined hands and guides Hope further down the hall. She pulls them into a closet and hurriedly shuts the door. Hope isn’t sure how she ended up stuck in a fucking storage closet with a wall of cleaning supplies digging into her back, but somehow she’s not too mad about it.

It’s pitch black inside of the closet.

Hope’s senses are stripped down to the simplest things—a hand clutching at her shirt, low breaths against her ear, body warmth, the rise and fall of Josie’s chest as she inhales and exhales, and a book caught between their bodies, the only thing separating them.

It takes all Hope has not to lean into her, breathe Josie’s scent in, feel their skin pressed together.

“Hope?”

“Yeah?” Hope whispers. Her hands rest on either side of Josie’s body, palms pressed to the door.

“Is she gone?”

“Not yet.”

Hope listens closely to follow the footsteps. She figures that they should wait until she can’t hear anything at all before they move. Hope doesn’t want to risk getting another punishment.

Josie’s hand twists further into her shirt and tugs, so that Hope tilts closer. Her nose brushes over Josie’s throat, her top lip accidentally skimming a pounding pulse. Hope steadies herself with two hands on Josie’s hips. She tries to listen for the hall monitor, but all that reaches her ears is the rapid thud of Josie’s heartbeat. It sounds like a hammer ramming repeatedly against stone.

Does it always beat this fast or is Josie nervous about getting caught?

Or is it something else?

Is Josie thinking about the same thing Hope’s thinking about?

All Hope can think about is the kiss. She knows that she agreed to forgetting everything, but she can’t help the way the memories slide through her head—Josie’s soft lips, wet and warm, held against her own. It was perfect.

Maybe Josie would let her do it again. Just once more, just one more taste, and then Hope will be content forever.

“What are you thinking about?” Josie asks, and she’s close enough that Hope can see the way her throat moves. “I can practically hear your brain churning.”

“You.”

It’s too dark to see, but Hope is pretty sure that she spots Josie smiling.

“What about me?” Josie taps her side, giggling.

“Kissing you.” Hope blurts, before she loses her nerve. The words flood out all at once. “I know we said we wouldn’t talk about it, but honestly it was really confusing. You asked me to kiss you, but then pushed me away.”

Josie is silent.

And then, she’s not.

“When we… kissed.” Josie sounds as if she is struggling to understand the concept. “Was it, uh, okay? Like, did you enjoy it?”

Hope frowns. “Enjoy it? Of course I enjoyed it.”

“Oh.”

_Oh?_

Hope can’t get a read on how Josie is feeling. It’s unnerving. Hope waits for her to speak, but Josie remains completely silent.

After a while, Hope speaks up. “I just thought that maybe you changed your mind or that you’re still afraid of me—“

“It’s not you I’m afraid of.” Josie interrupts.

Hope pauses, unsure of what else to say. Her mind flies back to a couple days ago, when Josie woke up from a nightmare. There was something that she said after all of the screaming.

_I saw her._

_Who?_

_Me._

“Are you afraid of yourself?”

Josie’s posture goes as tight as a bow string and she leans heavily on the door, her spine rigid.

“Why would you ask that?” Josie questions, tone sharp, eyes blazing. Hope swallows hard. She gets the sense that she struck a nerve.

“I just mean, because of that nightmare...” Hope begins cautiously. “You seemed pretty freaked out at the time. I thought—“

“I didn’t have a nightmare.” Josie interjects, her voice pitching lower like she’s talking to herself.

What the hell?

“Yes, you did.” Hope insists.

Josie makes a panicked sound in the back of her throat, almost like she can’t breathe, and reaches behind her to swipe at the door. The knob jiggles until her hand clasps around it, and then the door swings open. Josie stumbles out into the hallway and Hope goes barrelling after her.

“Jo, wait!”

“I just need some air.” Josie chokes out, bending down to put her hands on her knees. Her whole body trembles. She forces out a ragged breath, a weak, squeaking sound accompanying it. Josie lays her hand against the wall to steady herself. Her palm glows a dim red and in a lightning quick second, she disappears into thin air.

Fucking hell.

Witches and their damn magic.

—

Hope bounces her knee restlessly, her leg going up and down at an unusually rapid pace. It’s too hard to concentrate on what Emma is telling her while her thoughts run wild. Josie didn’t show up last night or this morning. Hope has barely slept a second since then.

Where could she be?

They go to boarding school. It’s not like there’s a lot of space to just run off around here. Maybe if Josie went to the woods or the Old Mill that could explain things, but it’s freezing cold out there and Hope doubts Josie would survive. It doesn’t help that Josie doesn’t have a phone. Hope might be able to bribe a witch to do a locator spell…

“Something on your mind?” Emma prompts. She says it kindly, but Hope gets the sense that she’s noticed Hope is ignoring her.

Hope tries to focus more and be polite, but her mind betrays her. Where could Josie be? What if she’s off doing black magic or something? Hope still has that book Josie left in the hallway. That could probably offer some useful information.

Emma taps her pen against her notepad as she notices Hope’s thoughts beginning to stray.

“What do you know about black magic?” Hope blurts. She hasn’t seen Josie in less than twenty four hours and yet it feels like it’s been a hundred fucking years.

“Not much.” Emma responds. “Why? Is someone you know using it?”

Josie would get in trouble if Hope said anything.

“No.”

Emma doesn’t really seem to believe her, but she nods anyways. “Alyssa used to practice it, right?”

Hope scoffs. She can’t help the pinch of anger at the mention of her ex-girlfriend’s name. It festers beneath her skin, picks sharply at old wounds.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Hope mumbles under her breath, wishing they could just drop it. She hates how Emma asks her questions that she already knows the answers to. “Even if she did, it doesn’t matter now.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, she’s dead now. Obviously.” Hope shoots up from the couch and moves across the room. Her heart pounds thickly in her chest.

She runs her fingers over some of the objects on Emma’s shelves—tiny trinkets, a collection of old books, random knick knacks, and three boxes of tissues, all stacked up like she expects someone to have a sobbing session. Hope definitely isn’t going to burst into tears. She’s just overwhelmed by it all. The combination of Josie’s disappearance and the sudden rush of old memories makes her lungs feel tight. Hope can’t help but think of the past.

_“Cut the bullshit, H.” Alyssa snaps, composure slipping. All Hope can hear is the click of heels against tile and, in a second, all she can feel is Alyssa’s hands massaging her back. The next time Alyssa speaks, it’s in a softer tone. “Come on. Talk to me.”_

_“Just stay away from me.” Hope growls out and inhales a puff of air that never quite reaches her lungs._

_It’s getting hard to breathe._

“Do u ever consider the fact that one third of the school has killed someone?” Emma questions.

Ripped out of the memory, Hope swallows hard and blinks. She allows her eyes to clench shut for a second before she opens them and faces Emma again. She tries to get some semblance of control over her thoughts.

“That’s different. When a wolf tells you that they killed their cousin or something, that’s just some random stranger. People here _knew_ Alyssa. They talked to her, grew up with her, befriended her…” Hope’s throat tightens. “ _Loved_ her. And I took that from them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Josie’s POV


	4. Chapter 4

“I just need some air.”

Josie gasps desperately for air. She places her hand against the wall and siphons from it, magic immediately filling her body. She mutters a quiet teleportation spell under her breath and jumps to a new location in seconds.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

It feels as if her head is splitting in two. Josie can barely keep her balance, already extremely dizzy from the gut-wrenching pain in her stomach.

She’s going crazy.

Her limbs don’t feel as if they belong to her. She takes a breath that seems to enter a stranger’s lungs and exhales air that passes through a dry, chapped mouth. Even her lips feel foreign to her. She kissed Hope? Josie touches her fingertips to the edge of her mouth. Her eyes clench shut on their own as she tries to conjure up the memory.

She tries to imagine Hope in front of her—striking blue eyes, pale skin, and beauty—but blackness is the only thing to coat the back of her eyelids.

How could she forget kissing Hope?

Josie wonders how she—not her—kissed Hope. Was she gentle? Sweet? Did she tug Hope in by her hips and press their bodies together, the way that she has always wanted to? Did she handle Hope with care or just melt into her and take?

How did Hope kiss her? Was she slow about it? Fast? Rough? Did she attack Josie’s mouth with all of the passion in her body or did she lean in carefully, delicately, to savor it forever?

Josie will never know.

Her tongue stings with the venom of betrayal and an overwhelming loathing builds up inside of her, but the only person to blame and hate is herself.

“Damn it.” Her voice sounds rough, even to her own ears. She clears it and discovers her throat aches mildly. Great. On top of everything, she’s also getting sick.

Which is odd. She hasn’t been out in the cold for a while. She hasn’t even been outside in the last couple days. At least, she doesn’t think so…

The haze of surprise and pain finally passes and Josie blinks a few times, snapping out of it.

Now what?

Josie turns her head from left to right, searching for any sign of anyone else. Of course, the halls are empty. It’s past curfew. The fact that almost every section of the school looks the same isn’t helpful. The walls and floors are all wooden, the decorations scarce since her mom hasn’t gotten around to adding more yet. She’s on the second floor and climbing back up to her room would be a hassle, plus she doesn’t want to speak to Hope right now.

What would she say? She has no idea how to tell Hope about everything that’s been going on.

The only person Josie knows on the second floor is Penelope, but that idea has red flags all over it. Somehow, the idea of facing Hope after running away like that sounds worse. So, Josie sucks it up and knocks on Penelope’s door.

A short amount of time passes before Penelope opens it. Josie isn’t surprised she wasn’t asleep.

“Hey.” Josie looks ahead at the familiar sight of Penelope in her black pajamas, smoking a joint and smiling lazily. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Penelope nods and backs up to give her some room. Her roommate is sitting on the bed, head buried in a book. Josie thinks her name is Missy or something, she really isn’t sure. Penelope gives (possibly?) Missy a pointed look, until she realizes they have a visitor.

“Scram.” Penelope waves her hand towards the door.

Missy sighs, collecting her books, and walking out the door. Josie murmurs a quiet apology as she passes. She feels a little bad about kicking the other girl out past curfew, but she’d rather not have a stranger hanging around.

Penelope’s room is somewhat comforting, due to its familiarity. Her ex-girlfriend’s decorations take up half of the space, silky bed sheets and piles of books in the corner. _Covens and the Feminism of Witches. Pride and Prejudice._ Books that Josie’s read multiple times on her own.

The room is completely and entirely odorless. It’s probably because of a spell Penelope cast to get rid of the scent of weed in her room.

Penelope breathes a final wisp of smoke out of her mouth as she sets it aside, and Josie smells nothing at all. Clever spell.

“I knew you’d be back.” Penelope leans against her desk, her lips forming that half-mischievous smirk it always does. Josie rolls her eyes.

Josie scoffs. “I’m not here for sex.”

Penelope seems genuinely surprised by that and tilts her head in the curious, puppy-like way that Josie used to find adorable. Now it just annoys her that Penelope would immediately expect that from her. She’s not some crazed, horny monster who can’t keep it in her pants for a day.

She’s just…

Well.

Josie doesn’t really know what she is doing. She knows that sex used to help fight off the craving to do black magic and that Penelope was easy enough to convince to sleep with her, but lately things feel different.

(An image pops into Josie’s head: Hope’s face, confused and pinched with worry, right before Josie teleported out of there.)

Things feel so, so different.

“I think…” Josie swallows, a lump in her throat. It’s only then that she realizes how truly lost she is. Her eyes feel wet. “I think I’m losing control. I think I hurt someone that I really care about.”

Josie drops down on the edge of Penelope’s bed and brings her knees up to her chest. There’s an odd presence of something new in the pit of her soul, where her magic rests, but she can’t place what it is. It weighs heavily on her chest.

She blinks and feels a tear under her eye. Josie wipes at it. She hadn’t realized she was crying.

“Shit, okay. It’s fine.” Penelope sits beside her and carefully pats her on the back. She’s never been the best at comforting people. “What’s on your mind?”

Josie shakes her head, rambling to herself wildly, her voice sounding underwater. “I’m going crazy. I don’t even know why I—why did I do it? What if she never forgives me? I just… I just left. I _hurt_ her.”

“Hurt who?”

“Hope.” Josie chokes out, remembering how sad the wolf had looked when Josie disappeared.

Of course Hope was sad. Josie kissed her and then told her to forget about it, like it was nothing and meant nothing. But it didn’t mean nothing. It meant _something_ , even if Josie can’t remember doing it.

Penelope frowns, recoiling a bit. “Mikaelson?”

“Yes, Hope Mikaelson.”

Do they know any other Hopes?

“Oh.” Penelope seems to relax some. Josie can feel the bed dipping as she shifts around. “That’s not a big deal. Whatever you did, it’s okay. It’s Hope, she’ll get over it.”

Josie bristles at that. “Hope has feelings, too.”

“And don’t we all know it. Anger and jealousy are pretty strong emotions.” Penelope says it simply, but there’s an underlying bite to her tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve never seen Hope jealous.”

“Oh, please. Have you seen her face whenever she walks in on us? It’s murderous.” Penelope makes a noise that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “She literally threw me out of the room that one time. She’s got a little crush on you, obviously. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed her panting over you like a dog—“

“God, why do you have to be such a bitch.” Josie growls out, standing up abruptly.

Hope has a crush on her?

_Hope?_

Her cheeks flush at the thought. Well, they did kiss…

“Alright, Jesus. Sorry.” Penelope follows after her with her hands, making a swipe at Josie’s waist that Josie dodges. She leans back on her palms, a frown twisting her lips. “I didn’t think you’d be mad. You hated Hope, like, just yesterday. Make up your fucking mind, Josie.”

The anger comes all too easily. Josie used to be relatively calm. Easygoing, even. Now she feels close to yelling after a short conversation.

Her hands clench into tight fists at her sides, her nails branding her palms. She glances off to the side and spots Penelope’s lighter laying on her desk.

A voice fills her head, as loud as the rage:

**Burn her.**

No.

That’s not what Josie wants to do. She’s pissed off, sure, but she doesn’t want to physically harm anyone. She has no idea where that came from.

“You know what? Go fuck yourself.” Josie barks out before leaving the room. She slams the door shut behind her. A loud thud follows the action, which probably isn’t for the best, considering the hall monitor is walking around, but oh well…

Josie will have to find somewhere else to sleep.

Lizzie’s room? No, Lizzie is roommates with that wolf, Maya, who apparently likes her space.

MG? No. That wouldn’t work out either. If she got caught sleeping in a boy’s room it would be a lot worse, plus the embarrassment of talking about it with her mother sounds tiring.

There’s always the greenhouse.

Josie thinks about it for a second. She has never really thought about staying there overnight, but she doubts that anyone will be there right now.

Fine.

It’ll have to do.

Josie murmurs the teleportation spell again and closes her eyes, picturing the greenhouse in her head. When she opens them, she’s surrounded by various plants, pots of soil, and green walls.

It’s… not a great sleeping environment.

Most of the floor is dusted with dirt and the walls are chipped, visibly showing its age. There isn’t a lot of space and it isn’t fancy by any means, but Josie isn’t very picky. There was a whole year in her childhood where Lizzie kept kicking her out of the bed, so she’s grown somewhat accustomed to sleeping on a hard floor.

Josie lays down and curls up in a ball. She wraps her arms tighter against her, shivering mildly. She remembers how warm it had been to cuddle with Hope. This is the opposite of that.

She forces her eyes shut. She needs to try and sleep instead of thinking about Hope.

It’s a school night and class is important.

So.

Josie just won’t think about her.

She turns on her side. Then her back. Then her side, again.

What if Hope hates her?

**She does.**

Josie’s eyes shoot open in alarm. She swears that she just heard a voice, not unlike her own, speaking to her as if from outside of her body.

The greenhouse is completely empty, aside from herself. It’s so dark that Josie can barely see two feet in front of her, but the doors are closed and locked. She’s safe. It’s fine. Yet, her skin tingles faintly, like someone else’s eyes are on her.

“Um.” Josie says aloud. “Hi?”

**Hello.**

This time, Josie jumps up in surprise. Someone definitely said something this time, but it felt odd. Sounded odd. The voice splits through her brain and pierces her head, leaving a dull vibration.

Josie swallows. “Who are you?”

**Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?**

No. No, this isn’t happening. Josie isn’t hearing voices in her head. She’s just tired. She needs sleep.

Josie lays back down. She tries to relax, but she can’t bring herself to. The hardness of the floor doesn’t help. She stares at the ceiling, posture stiff, muscles clenched tight in defense. It’s all just a bad dream. This isn’t happening.

**I love that you think you can ignore me.**

Josie clenches her eyes closed tighter. Spots of color burst behind her eyelids. This isn’t real. It’s all just a dream.

**You wanted to hurt her, didn’t you?**

It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream.

**Answer me.**

“Hope? No.” Josie replies, speaking aloud, almost involuntarily. “I never wanted that.”

**Not our precious little wolf. Penelope, you wanted to hurt her.**

“No.” Josie denies, uselessly.

The voice in Josie’s head laughs, and it’s just like her own, except lower and sharp with menace. It scrapes Josie’s brain raw from the insides.

**You can’t lie to me.**

“Leave me alone.” Josie bites out. “You’re not real. You don’t exist. Go away.”

A few minutes pass of utter silence before Josie feels comfortable enough to release the breath that she had been holding. Her chest loosens, a subtle wave of peace washing over her. She can finally relax enough to get some sleep. Her eyes slowly flutter closed and, before she knows it, she is drifting into darkness.

—

It’s morning.

Birds chip and fly above her, moving through a nearly colorless sky. The earth is cold beneath her and the tall trees surrounding her stretch up high, bathed in the first traces of sunlight. Josie sits up and blinks blearily.

She’s in the woods.

Josie recognizes that they’re the woods around the Salvatore School. She knows the land about as well as she knows the back of her hand, and yet she feels terribly confused.

Why is she here?

The last thing she remembers is sleeping in the greenhouse, and then… nothing.

Her hands move frantically over her body, feeling for any signs of injury. It takes effort to do so, her head is pounding and her muscles ache with an indescribable pain, but she finds no visible cuts or bruises. Her clothes are unrecognizable. She has on a black skirt that she’s never seen before and a crop top that she thinks belongs to Lizzie.

It’s not an awful outfit, Josie just can’t remember putting it on. It’s definitely not the ideal choice for this weather.

Josie shivers as another gust of wind blows over her. It’s freezing. She tries to pull her skirt down her thighs, but it’s ridiculously short and doesn’t give her much coverage. The smooth skin of her legs is marked with faint, pink lines, almost like scratches, as if she scraped them on a tree.

Tentatively, she brushes her thumb over one of the scratches and hisses. Josie pouts.

Ow.

What the fuck?

Leaves crunch behind her, footsteps approaching her slowly. Josie turns around and immediately scrambles backwards as she catches a glimpse of a figure getting closer. She backs up until she bumps into a tree, the bark digging into her skin.

Stupid crop top. Who even chose this for her?

Josie scans the space around her carefully, her tongue already heavy with an unspoken spell.

The figure appears from out of the trees. Josie is only able to catch her breath when she sees that it’s only Hope. Relief instantly washes over her. Hope’s eyes widen as soon as she spots Josie, and all of a sudden, Josie is being scooped off the ground.

“Jo!”

Josie yelps in surprise and a bit of pain as Hope pulls her into a bone-crushing hug. She wheezes out a strangled breath, but soon gets used to being hugged so tightly and reciprocates.

Her heart does a strange little jump when Hope’s hands brush her bare waist.

Josie easily rests her chin on top of Hope’s head and feels the underside of her jaw dampen. She frowns in confusion for a second, only to realize that Hope’s hair is slick with sweat. Josie tries to subtly shift away, but Hope just tugs her closer, and Josie feels kind of bad so she deals with the sweat. It’s nice to be held.

She can almost feel Hope’s heart pounding away where their chests press together. It’s as if Hope was running a second ago or something.

“Where have you been?” Hope murmurs into the crook of Josie’s neck. “Don’t run off ever again.”

Run off?

“Um. Okay.”

“I’m serious, Josie.” Hope stresses, a sense of urgency in her voice, and a bit of panic. “Promise me.”

Hope leans away, just enough to put half an inch of space between them. No more than that. She still clings to Josie strongly, her fingers marking half-moons in the strip of Josie’s skin revealed by her short top.

There’s an obvious fear in Hope’s eyes that Josie has never seen before. They look suspiciously wet and her pupils are blown wide with panic.

“Okay, I promise.” Josie says, trying to soothe her. She feels responsible for this somehow.

Hope looks her up and down rapidly, then starts to pat down Josie’s sides with hurried, desperate hands. There’s a wildness just beneath Hope’s exterior that stands out clearly. Her fingers are trembling with worry, and Josie can see now that Hope is… half naked?

She is wearing an oversized t-shirt that reaches her knees, but her legs and feet are bare.

Josie raises her eyebrows.

“Why don’t you have pants on?” She wonders, a little concerned for Hope’s wellbeing and a little warm at the sight of her skin.

“Full moon.” Hope mutters mindlessly, all of her attention on making sure Josie is okay. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did someone take you? Where have you been?”

Josie blinks.

Full moon?

The overload of questions doesn’t help her clear her mind.

It can’t be a full moon. It _can’t_ be. The next full moon isn’t due for another couple of days. She was only gone for… well, she doesn’t know how long she was gone for.

“I just went for a walk.” Josie replies cluelessly, because what the hell else is she supposed to say? Hope would think that she’s crazy if she told the truth.

Apparently, this isn’t the right answer.

Hope scoffs and steps away. “You just went for a walk?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Hope repeats, her voice raising and trembling with sudden anger. “I was worried sick about you. Everyone was. I’ve been looking everywhere with Lizzie. Your mom assembled a school-wide search party. None of the wolves could catch your scent, the locator spells didn’t work. I—I searched every fucking inch of the school.”

She exhales shakily. “I didn’t think—“

“No, you didn’t think at all.” Leaves crunch under Hope’s bare feet as she comes closer and their hips bump together. “You don’t care if something happens to you, but I do. I care. If you get hurt and I’m not there to stop it, I won’t be able to live with myself. I’ll go out of my fucking mind!”

The words settle heavily between them.

Josie watches Hope lose her control. Her breath leaves her mouth in harsh exhales, the sound of low panting accompanying the rapid rise and fall of Hope’s chest. Hope’s face is flushed pink from exertion and her eyes contain an obvious ferocity that Josie has never seen before. She soaks it all up greedily. Josie is horrified to realize that she actually likes this, craves it somehow.

Her gaze lowers to trace Hope’s mouth and her chest aches with desperation as she thinks of the kiss that she can’t remember—the one that was stolen from her memory.

“Where were you?” Hope demands. Josie forces her eyes up.

“I don’t know.” She admits and swallows when it looks as if that answer angers Hope more. Josie continues before Hope can interject. “I mean it. I went to sleep… some time ago. I only meant to be gone for the night, I promise.”

Josie reaches out and traces Hope’s jaw with her thumb. “I didn’t mean to leave you for so long on purpose. I just wanted time to think.”

Hope is silent.

It unnerves her, not being able to tell what Hope is thinking.

“I want to tell you everything that’s been going on with me.” Josie really has no idea what she is going to say, but she can at least tell Hope what she knows.

“Okay.” Hope says. “Tell me.”

“I’ve been doing black magic.” Saying it feels like pushing a weight off her chest. “I just wanted to try a few spells and I… I guess it got out of hand. It’s addictive. Imagine being bulletproof from every bad feeling that you’ve ever experienced in your entire life—pain, sadness, grief. That’s what it’s like. Like I’m invincible. But it’s messing with my head. I can’t—“

“Josie.”

“I can’t remember what I did last night or the day before. I’m losing time. I’m hearing things. And I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t—I don’t even remember kissing you, but I _want_ to. I want—“

_“Jo.”_

Hope’s hands clasp over Josie’s all of a sudden. It becomes so obvious, now that Hope has put a stop to her rambling—the rushing wind, the spiral of leaves swirling around them, the adrenaline in her veins. How had she not noticed she’s using magic?

How can she be so out of control with herself?

With _everything?_

Two hands are suddenly cupping her jaw gently, thumbs stroking over her cheeks. Josie sucks in a breath and glances up. Their eyes catch like a wildfire.

“It’s okay.” Hope whispers, even though it’s not. “We’ll go back to school together. You just need help, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Let’s go back.” Hope’s hand slides down Josie’s arm and she links their fingers together.

They walk a couple steps forward before an urge bubbles up inside of Josie, her desire suddenly all-consuming.

“Hope.”

Hope turns her head. “Yeah—“

In a snap decision, Josie drives forward and puts her lips against Hope’s, capturing her mouth with renewed intensity. Hope reciprocates instantly, pressing their bodies close as their mouths melt together. Her lips are soft and damp, and under all of that a sweet taste lingers—something with an edge, sharp like a knife, yet gentler.

Josie loves it.

The woods around them could light on fire, the world could end, she could go insane and she’d still stay here, kissing Hope Mikaelson.

They pull away for air, but don’t go very far. Josie rolls her hands over Hope’s shoulders, unable to stop touching her. Hope is doing the same, but with Josie’s waist. It’s the best Josie has felt all year.

And it’s perfect.

It’s sacred.

It’s a memory that Josie immediately locks away in the back of her mind. _Her_ mind. This is her’s.

“I meant what I said earlier about wanting you.” Josie tells her, in a soft whisper, nudging their noses together. “I want to kiss you. I want to take you on a date. I want it all, if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s more than okay with me.” Hope replies. Her lips are a little puffy, turned a tempting red color, and Josie doesn’t hesitate to steal another taste.

Josie has to dip her head to reach Hope’s mouth properly, which she has no problem doing. She deepens the kiss and winds her arms around Hope’s neck to keep her close. She can’t believe she ever let anyone steal this from her memory.

Hope swipes her tongue over the seam of Josie’s mouth. Josie parts her lips to let Hope in without hesitation, whimpering softly at the feeling. Heat coaxes its way into her veins and scorches her from the inside out, more of a rush than magic and adrenaline combined. Josie is an idiot. She should have done this earlier. She has no idea how she went so long without kissing, touching, and feeling Hope. She never wants it to end.

But it does.

Hope tilts away after a second. “Your family is really worried about you. We should go.”

Right.

Josie almost forgot about that. Lizzie and her mom are both going to sit her down for the world’s longest lecture as soon as she returns.

“Alright.” Josie agrees, removing her hands from Hope’s body. “Lead the way.”

She isn’t as familiar with the woods as Hope is, so Hope is the one to start leading them through the trees. Hope holds her hand and occasionally squeezes their joined fingers while they walk.

Josie accidentally trips over a branch on the way there, nearly stumbling forward into Hope.

“Klutz.” Hope comments, smirking in amusement, even as she catches Josie around the waist and steadies her with two careful hands.

“Asshat.” Josie bats her away. “My legs hurt.”

Hope pauses.

“I can carry you, if you want.” Hope suggests. It takes Josie off guard. She knows that Hope is a lot stronger than her, but Hope is so tiny.

“You can carry me?”

Hope frowns. “Of course.”

“But… you’re so short.”

Hope huffs lowly, her pride visibly damaged. The frown on her mouth is actually sort of cute. Josie giggles into her hand until Hope hooks her arm behind Josie’s knees and hoists her into the air, then Josie releases a squeak of surprise, clinging to Hope’s shoulders for balance. Hope carries her the rest of the way there.

When they get to the school, Lizzie is standing out by the entrance with Caroline, both of them speaking dramatically. Josie thinks she hears them mention something about a SWAT team.

Oh god.

Hope drops her a couple of feet away from the school, but the sound of shoes hitting gravel is enough to make both Josie’s sister and mother turn to look at her.

“Josie! You’re alive!”

Damn. Was she really gone that long? Of course she’s alive.

Lizzie and Caroline practically sprint at her and lift her into a giant group hug. Josie chokes out a gasp as the air is forced from her lungs again. It honestly hurts a little, but she is in no place to complain. They hold onto each other for a while.

“Where were you, honey?” Caroline questions, gently trying to coax answers out of her.

Lizzie is less subtle about it.

“We thought you died. You’re not allowed to do that.” Lizzie proclaims and, once she’s sure that Josie is okay, she turns to Hope. “What the hell, Mikaelson? Did you kidnap her or something?”

“No.” Hope snaps.

Josie can already see an argument building. The animosity between them is palpable. She tries to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.

“Stop it, both of you. I’m fine.” Josie assures them. Caroline and Lizzie seem unconvinced, still fawning over Josie like she’s a baby deer that’s lost a leg. “It’s okay. Hope saved me.”

Hope meets her eyes. Josie offers a shy smile, as if they weren’t just making out in the woods, and returns her attention to her family.

Okay, so maybe Hope didn’t save her. Josie was perfectly safe before she showed up, but it would be nice if people could stop immediately blaming Hope for everything that goes on here.

“I want to know every detail of what happened.” Caroline demands and Josie sighs.

“Mom, I’m really tired right now.” She throws in a yawn for effect. What could she say to her mom that wouldn’t get her in serious trouble? It’s safer to wait and plan an explanation. Besides, Josie is actually kind of sleepy. “Do you think I could take a nap before I get interrogated?”

Caroline falters.

Josie continues. “I’ll just go back to my room—“

“No.” Lizzie interrupts, outraged for one reason or another. “You spend too much time there.”

“It’s my room.”

“You’re beginning to smell like wet dog. Besides, we’re in serious need of some twin time. Come with me.” Lizzie grabs Josie’s hand before she can protest, causing Josie to stumble forward.

“I guess that’s alright.” Caroline concedes. “But I want you to come see me, soon. You’re not off the hook.”

“Okay, mom.”

As Josie turns her head to respond to her mom, she catches Hope’s eye and waves subtlety at her, just so Hope knows Josie isn’t forgetting about her. She won’t. Not this time. Hope waves back, giving Josie a glimpse of her small smile before Lizzie pulls her out of view.

Lizzie practically yanks Josie the entire way to her room, muttering complaints under her breath and occasionally pausing to glare at anyone who stands in their way. A couple people stop to ask if Josie is okay, but Lizzie doesn’t let her answer, instead marching ahead.

“Ow. Lizzie, slow down.”

“Keep up, sis.” Lizzie shoves Josie into the room and slams the door shut behind them.

Great. She’s trapped.

Something tells Josie that she won’t be allowed to nap until she fesses up.

That something is Lizzie.

“I’m not letting you sleep until you fess up.” Lizzie says, leaning against the door as if she expects Josie to make a break for it. Josie resists the urge to roll her eyes. She doesn’t have the energy to run away.

The bathroom door opens and Maya comes out, pulling a shirt over her head. She pauses when she sees Josie, eyes widening.

“Holy shit. You’re alive.” Maya blurts. “Hope has been looking for you.”

“I know.” Josie murmurs in response. She bites her lip, replaying the memory in her head. “She found me.”

“Oh.”

“As nice as this conversation is, we need private sister time.” Lizzie sends a pointed look Maya’s way, unsubtle as ever.

Maya scoffs. “Don't act like you don’t love me.”

Despite the comment, Maya knows when to take a hint. She collects a couple things, asks Josie if Hope is back in her room yet, and walks out the door. Lizzie watches her every movement and only seems to relax once Maya has left. There’s an odd flush to her cheeks that fades slowly as she ushers Josie to the bed.

Josie climbs up high near the pillows and Lizzie readily follows. They sit with their legs crossed, facing each other. Lizzie is the first to speak.

“Spill. Everything.”

So, Josie talks. She tells Lizzie everything that’s happened over the past couple months, starting with the first time she did dark magic—a simple offensive spell—and going over rest of the times, too. Josie admits to trying to cope with alcohol and Lizzie is kind enough to hold back on her remarks about Penelope, so Josie can speak. It’s harder to describe more recent events, because that’s where Josie’s memory gets muddled, but she tries her best to fill in the gaps of what she does know. There are some tears and a couple of short lectures from Lizzie, but in the end Josie gets Lizzie to pinky promise not to tell mom until Josie does.

By the end of it, Josie feels bone-tired and has no problem collapsing on the bed with Lizzie for cuddles. They sleep for such a long amount of time that it’s dark out when Josie wakes up.

Josie notices that Lizzie is still asleep beside her and climbs off the bed as quietly as possible. She pads across the room on her tippy toes and slips out the door silently. It’s late, but not past curfew, so Josie is able to move through the halls without encountering many people or getting in trouble.

Her room is dark inside when she gets to it, none of the lights on. Muffled snores greet her ears. If she squints, Josie thinks that she can make out Hope’s sleeping form on the bed. Her bed.

Hope is on her bed.

Josie approaches slowly and stands at the edge of the bed. Hope is curled up in the middle of the mattress, snoring softly. It’s incredibly endearing, finding Hope waiting here for her. She watches Hope sleep for a second, until it gets creepy, and then she crawls onto the bed. She’s careful not to make too much noise as she lays beside Hope.

Hope stirs anyways, shifting around in her sleep until she turns fully on her side. Her arm circles Josie’s midsection and brings Josie closer.

“Hey.” Hope murmurs, looking at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” Josie confirms and strokes her hand over Hope’s back. Hope makes a soft, content noise, and nuzzles her face into Josie’s neck before allowing her eyes to fall shut once again.

—

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Josie says as Hope gathers cream on her fingers. “It’s really not that bad. I’m capable of cleaning myself.”

Josie is sitting up on the sink with Hope standing between her spread legs. The day ahead of them sounds exhausting. Josie has plans to meet with her mom later, but she has to get through class first. It especially doesn’t help that Hope decided to wake her up an hour earlier than usual, so she can clean Josie’s scratches properly.

“Don’t be so stubborn.” Hope scolds, a smile on her face and in her voice.

Josie rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, Dr. Mikaelson.”

Hope shoots her a dry look.

A quick spell would probably suffice, but Josie is too tired to argue with Hope. That’s why she lets Hope obsess over rubbing alcohol and soothing creams.

Hope decides on a cream and carefully spreads the substance across Josie’s upper thighs, right where the scratches are. Josie’s pajama shorts are hiked up so Hope can reach every spot that she needs to. Josie gnaws on her bottom lip as Hope’s fingers practically caress her legs, a blush rising high on her cheeks.

She tries to stay still, but can’t fight off the shiver that comes from Hope’s touch.

“Cold?” Hope asks.

Josie shakes her head quickly. “No.”

Hope nods and continues, thankfully not saying much about Josie’s occasional squirming. Josie watches shadows pass across Hope’s face and notices that her expression is growing solemn.

“Do you remember what did this to you?” Hope’s jaw clenches dangerously. “It wasn’t one of the wolves, was it?”

“No. I mean… I don’t think so.” Josie replies. The scratches aren’t that bad.

She pauses, inspecting Hope.

“You seem a little possessive.” Josie points out. She isn’t mad about it. It’s almost amusing, how obvious Hope’s feelings are now that she’s able to see Hope clearly.

Hope shrugs. “Maybe a little.”

Josie watches Hope finish rubbing the rest of the cream in. Once she is done, Hope sets it aside, and hesitantly returns to her previous spot in front of Josie.

“I don’t like the idea of someone hurting you.” It’s odd how shyly Hope says it, almost speaking to the floor instead of Josie. “Especially someone from the pack. It’s a total betrayal.”

She remembers Penelope’s comment about how jealous Hope can be and wonders if there’s some truth to that.

“That’s very sweet, but you don’t have to worry. I can protect myself, Hope. No one’s going to touch me.” Josie assures her. She’s confident in her ability to fight off a wolf. If things were to ever get really bad, she always has—

No.

She’s not doing black magic anymore.

She can’t.

Josie swallows her own saliva and feels it burn like acid, all the way down her throat. Her hands tremble with the familiar urge to reach under her bed, where she keeps her lists of spells and the Mora Miserium. To quell the sudden urge, Josie grabs Hope’s shirt instead and yanks Hope in by her collar.

Hope stumbles forward, accidentally knocking into Josie’s hips. She grips the sink for balance.

“You can touch me.” Josie tells Hope. She places Hope’s hands back where they once were, far up her thighs, nearly under the shorts. Hope’s eyes widen in surprise, her pupils instantly dilating at the low, honeyed sound of Josie’s voice.

Hope stares down at where skin meets skin, her expression full of awe, as if she’s feeling up a goddess.

It gives Josie a surge of confidence.

“You can touch me here.” She brings their joined hands upwards, dragging Hope’s palms over the flat of her stomach until they rest just underneath her breasts. “And here. Anywhere.”

Hope swallows hard, throat bobbing.

“God, Jo.” Hope’s eyes shut tight, like she has to take time to compose herself. “We haven’t even been on a date yet.”

“Just for future reference.” Josie giggles, coaxing Hope closer by pulling at her hips.

Hope follows willingly, leaning into Josie, though her eyes remain closed. Josie takes advantage of their proximity and presses a soft kiss to the smooth skin of Hope’s neck, right where she saw Hope’s throat bob earlier. She swipes her tongue across the underside of Hope’s jaw, tasting salt, and is rewarded with a low, eager groan from the werewolf. Josie is horrified to find that she’s just as possessive as Hope—maybe more—that she wants to mark Hope before they leave the room, so everyone can see.

“We’re gonna be late…” Hope mutters uselessly, her voice pitched lower than Josie has ever heard it.

It’s so fucking hot.

Josie simply hums in response. She finds a spot on Hope’s neck that makes her moan and sucks at it greedily, her teeth nipping the skin. Hope is warm beneath her mouth, her pulse thundering away under Josie’s tongue. Josie can practically feel the heated energy radiating off of Hope. It’s exhilarating.

In a split second, Hope snatches Josie’s wrists and pins them above her head. She holds them firmly, but not enough to hurt.

“You’re driving me crazy.” Hope’s eyes are nearly black, her pupils swallowing the deep blue of her irises. Josie’s heart pounds widely in her chest.

Josie tries to kiss Hope on the mouth, but Hope presses her back against the wall in an instant.

“We have class.” Hope reminds her.

Josie sighs. “I don’t care.”

Hope raises her eyebrows at that, the edge of her lips tilting upwards in amusement. Josie pouts. It’s not funny. She has _needs_.

Josie attempts to steal another kiss, but Hope is quick about evading her lips and keeping her a good distance away. Hope holds her in place so effortlessly, it’s as if Josie weighs nothing. Josie would be lying if she said it wasn’t a bit of a turn on.

She just needs one more kiss to satisfy herself for the rest of the day. Just one more taste…

Someone pounds on the door.

“Josie!” Comes her sister’s obnoxiously loud voice. “I know you’re in there!”

Hope jumps away, startled, and releases Josie’s wrists. Josie drops her hands, feeling a lingering sense of disappointment. Heat still throbs in the pit of her stomach, not getting the attention that it deserves. Josie hops off the sink and lands with a quiet thud. She adjusts her shorts, pulling them into a more appropriate position.

When she glances up, she catches Hope clearly ogling her legs and smirks, pleased by the effect she has on Hope.

“Josette!”

Josie huffs and rolls her eyes as Lizzie continues to kill any and all sexual tension in the bathroom. She shares an amused, mildly apologetic glance with Hope, before going to open the door.

“That took ages.” Lizzie complains. She couldn’t have been waiting for more than a minute. “What is up with you this morning?”

“I’m tired.” Josie explains.

“You’re not even dressed.”

Josie looks down at her simple outfit. _“Hey,_ I was going to wear this to class.”

Lizzie makes a disgruntled noise, but fortunately (or maybe, unfortunately), Lizzie gets distracted by something else. She stares behind Josie for a second before Josie turns to see what Lizzie is staring at.

It’s Hope.

“Ew.” Lizzie’s mouth twists with disgust. “Is that a hickey, Mikaelson?”

Hope rubs at the damp skin of her neck, where a blotchy, red bruise is slowly darkening. She rubs at it with her palm, as if that will help, and scowls at Lizzie.

“Mind your own business.” Hope responds, but it holds less malice than usual. Her voice is still a little husky from kissing Josie a minute ago.

Lizzie crosses her arms. “Who would make out with _you?”_

Josie shyly drops her gaze.

She can feel two sets of eyes on her.

“Oh my god!” Lizzie exclaims, finally putting the pieces together. “It’s fresh! What the hell, Josie? Don’t tell me you hooked up with Hope.”

Josie turns bright red, stammering. “No—no, we only kissed—“

“You could catch something!”

“Lizzie!”

“What if she has fleas?” Lizzie lowers her voice, barely. “Or herpes?”

_“Hey.”_ Hope growls, glaring daggers at Lizzie.

Josie can’t deal with this right now. She grabs her backpack where it hangs on her desk chair and slings it around her shoulders. Josie pecks Hope on the cheek lightning-quick before forcing Lizzie out into the hallway.

“You’re hooking up with Hope?” Lizzie says, way too loudly for the crowded halls and the people with supernatural hearing in them.

A few people glance at them strangely.

“Shh.” Josie shushes her. Can Lizzie calm down for five seconds? “Be quiet.”

Lizzie lowers her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s private.”

Lizzie doesn’t seem to like that idea—actually it seems as if she very clearly hates it—but they have to get to class. Josie walks fast enough that she is able to dodge most of Lizzie’s questions and slip into the classroom on time.

“This is _not_ over.” Lizzie hisses as she retreats to her seat on the other side of the room.

Josie is happy that they don’t sit together in this class, until she remembers who she shares her desk with. As she takes her seat, Penelope grins at her, almost imperceptibly.

Damn it.

All Josie wanted was a stress-free class. She’s sure that Penelope won’t let that happen.

In fact, Penelope opens her mouth before class even officially starts. She leans over into Josie’s space, whispering in her ear. “Where’d you run off to? Heard you disappeared.”

Penelope’s fancy perfume invades her nose, the familiar scent of it lingering in the surrounding air.

Josie shrugs wordlessly.

“Fine. Stay mysterious.” Penelope lays out her notebook, along with a dark purple pen. Josie gets her own belongings out of her backpack.

Mr. Johnson, their Potions teacher, stands at the front of the room. He claps his hands together to get everyone to quiet down. “Today, we’re going to be working on truth serum. It’s a challenging potion to create, but things will run smoothly if you all listen to directions. I have the ingredients right here…”

For the next twenty or so minutes, Penelope and Josie work in silent harmony. Josie sort of hates how easy it is to work alongside Penelope, but she also sort of likes it, too. It’s better to partner up with her than some other useless witch, like Landon Kirby. At least Penelope is competent.

They actually end up finishing before everyone else.

“Nice job, girls.” Mr. Johnson inspects the serum that they made. It glitters gold and green, shining brightly in the vial they put it in. “You can keep it.”

They can keep it?

That sounds irresponsible.

Josie isn’t about to complain about it. She’s been wanting more freedom at this school forever, but she has no need for truth serum. Penelope blinks pleading, puppy eyes on her, so Josie hands her the bottle, just to get her to stop.

“All yours.” She says.

“Thanks.” Penelope pockets the vial. Who knows what kind of evil she’s going to stir up with that? “Are you going with anyone to the dance?”

An indignant noise leaves Josie’s mouth.

Is Penelope an idiot?

“Anyone but you.” Since class is coming to an end soon, Josie mindlessly doodles shapes into her notebook.

She tilts away so Penelope can’t see. God knows that Penelope will jump at the chance to invade Josie’s privacy. Nothing is secret with her. Josie keeps her gaze glued to the paper, tracing hearts in bright yellow ink.

“So, you’re asking Mikaelson, right?”

Josie jumps, startled, and nudges Penelope out of her personal space with her foot. She glances down at her drawing and notices that it’s not just hearts on the paper, but Hope’s initials written in small, loopy letters.

Shit.

She blushes as she sees Penelope’s smug face, smirking at her like she’s discovered the secrets of the universe.

“It’s none of your business if I am.” Josie snaps through gritted teeth, exasperated but unwilling to be overheard. She hugs her notebook to her chest protectively.

She’s become like a schoolgirl with a crush.

It’s only been a day.

Fuck.

Penelope shrugs, deceptively casual. “You know she’s going with Kirby, right?”

Kirby? As in Landon Kirby?

Before Josie can stop it, her eyes shoot across the room in search of him. She finds the boy still struggling through completing the potion with his partner, holding a few wrong ingredients against his chest and occasionally flinching whenever an unnatural spark bubbles up in the liquid. Landon is attempting to stir the potion with his bare hand, for fucks sake. He’s not worthy of Hope. No one is.

Hope wouldn’t say yes. Would she? They have spent a lot of time together… but it’s Landon. He doesn’t deserve her.

No one here deserves Hope.

**No one but you?**

Josie drums her fingers against the wood of the desk, suddenly on the defensive. Her stomach jolts with anxiety as she realizes that the voice is speaking to her again, and yet she is unable to force her gaze away from Landon.

Her eyes burn into his side, the intensity of rage scorching her insides. She never looks away. It feels impossible to. All she feels is jealousy and anger and fire.

_**Fire.** _

“Ah!” Landon yelps, jumping into the air suddenly as flames overtake his hand. They crawl up his arm, as if having a mind of their own, and singe through the sleeve of his flannel. “Ah! Help!”

The boy seems to forget that he also has magic.

Several witches in the room spring to help him, but the fire continues to roar on, as if eternal.

In the back of Josie’s mind—in the darkest corner that she would not dare to visit, the part that only houses violent, vengeful fantasies—she admits to her one and only desire: to see Landon Kirby burn.

Someone yanks her out of it.

Josie feels a hand tugging at her arm and blinks hard, breaking out a daze. Landon’s wailing falls silent and the flame dies, the room cooling. Josie whips her head around to see who is touching her.

It’s Penelope.

There is no more space in Josie’s brain to feel irritated by Penelope’s presence. Her head is full of dark clouds, a roaring thunderstorm inside of her.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” Josie whispers.

“It’s okay.” Penelope replies, with surprising ease and grace. “I get it. Some people just want to watch the world burn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment to let me know what you think :)
> 
> Or find me on Twitter: @thatoneurchin


	5. Chapter 5

Caroline leans back against the desk, palms flat on the dark wood, as she scrutinizes Josie with her eyes.

Josie absentmindedly drums her fingers along her bare knee, occasionally picking at the very edge of her pink shorts. She’s never felt more uncomfortable. If she had to guess the amount of time that she’s spent in her mom’s office, Josie would say that it was around thirty minutes in total.

Five of those minutes were spent on small talk and discussing pleasantries. Then, twenty more minutes of Josie coming clean about everything, and the last five consisted of Caroline staring at her silently.

Judgingly.

Josie feels her body itch beneath her skin. She is so fucking screwed. She’s done for.

She clears her throat. “Mom, I—“

“Black magic! Do you know what kind of harm that can do to you, Josette?” Caroline explodes, in that high-pitched, shrill tone of voice that she only uses when she’s overwhelmed. Josie bites the inside of her cheek raw at the use of her full name. She hasn’t been lectured like this since she successfully lit Lizzie’s hair on fire. Caroline paces the length of her office, livid. “It’s not safe. At all. How could I not notice you’ve been doing this? I’m supposed to be a responsible parent.”

Josie shifts in her seat in order to follow her mother’s pacing. “It’s not your fault, Mom.”

Guilt eats away at Josie’s chest, like a parasite. If someone would have warned her beforehand of the stress this would cause her entire family, she wouldn’t have started in the first place.

**Liar.**

Josie presses her lips together tightly, in an effort not to respond to her own brain. This has to stop.

“You’ve been displaying all of the symptoms, too. I don’t know why I didn’t notice. You’re irritable, you disappear…” Caroline seems to be talking to herself now. “You look so skinny, now. Have you been eating?”

Josie lowers her eyes. “No. I mean… I don’t really know. I can’t remember.”

She isn’t hungry. Her stomach feels less empty and more as if it’s being eaten at, picked away slowly by something that lives inside of her body.

“What _do_ you remember?” Caroline questions.

“Not much.” Josie admits to the floor. “Flashes of things. Images.”

“Like what?”

“The woods. A bus. The night sky. Nothing that’s too detailed.” Josie lists the things casually. She feels them linger in the back of her mind, but it’s not enough to come to any conclusions.

Caroline rubs her temples. “Have you done any more black magic recently?”

Yes.

Filled to the brim with conflicting emotions, Josie stares down at her own feet. She knows what the right thing to do is. She should tell the truth. She should admit to what she did to Landon, only a couple of short hours ago, but for some reason the words stick to her tongue like glue. The only reason Josie hasn’t been expelled yet is because she is Caroline’s daughter, but harming another student, unprovoked, would surely land her in hot water.

The only person Josie knows who got away with something like that is Hope, but from what she’s heard, Hope wasn’t unprovoked.

Hope must have had a reason.

Josie didn’t.

One second she’s an innocent teenage girl, with nothing on her mind but Hope, and the next she is fantasizing about burning someone alive. It’s as if a flip randomly switches in her head. Josie can’t control it, which is what makes it so dangerous. She should admit what happened.

She opens her mouth to tell the truth, but…

“No.” Josie focuses on her heartbeat, trying to keep it steady. “No, not that I know of.”

Caroline watches her in silence. The clear look of concern on her mother’s face almost gets Josie to tell the truth, but when she tries her tongue doesn’t work. It takes her a long while to get it to move properly.

“I’m not going to do it again, Mom. It was stupid of me, I know that. I’m done now.” Josie says, finally. “I’m too afraid to even try another spell.”

She watches Caroline’s severe expression ease up into a softer one, much less angry.

Caroline moves across the room (not with vamp speed, because that has always startled Josie) and pulls Josie into a tight hug. Josie is sitting, while Caroline is standing, so her head ends up cradled against Caroline’s upper stomach.

Josie shuts her eyes, leaning into the warm embrace. She missed this.

“I’m worried about you, honey. I want you to get some help. Double up on sessions with Emma, okay?” Caroline gently strokes along Josie’s hair.

“Okay.”

Caroline exhales shakily, the tension noticeably leaving her body. “We were so scared yesterday. We thought you got killed or something. If Hope hadn’t found you, then who knows what could have happened.”

“But she _did_ find me. She’s kind of good at that hero thing.” Josie smiles silently to herself.

“Who would’ve thought?” Caroline chuckles. “We should invite her to dinner. You two have been getting along, right?”

Getting along is an understatement.

Josie actually can’t believe how well things have been going lately. She remembers fighting with Hope when they first moved in. It was so easy to take her anger out on Hope—all of them chaos inside of her head, the pent-up emotion—since everyone else already hated her, but things are better now. A lot better.

She still remembers the heat of Hope’s hands on her this morning, the flustered expression on her face after every kiss, and the—

“Why is your heart beating so quickly?” Caroline pulls away to look Josie in the eye.

Shit.

“No reason.” Josie responds, lightning-quick, and nudges Caroline away. Her skin feels warm. “You know I hate when you listen to my heartbeat. You said you wouldn’t.”

“Sorry, Josie, I can’t turn my ears off.”

“Mom…”

“Do you have a crush on Hope?” Caroline asks. She sits up, curious excitement in her eyes.

It’s odd having a mother that appears seventeen years old, because sometimes Josie feels as if she is gossiping amongst other kids her age.

“Maybe a little.”

“Again?”

Josie thinks back on when she was twelve and thought Hope was the prettiest girl in the whole class. “Yeah, I guess. Promise you won’t pry.”

She knows how Caroline can be with other people’s relationship business. Aunt Bonnie has told her many stories.

“I promise. Scout’s honor.” Caroline crosses her heart for effect, smiling brightly. “This is good. A normal teenage experience, like a crush, is just what you need. Just be careful with Hope.”

“Hope won’t hurt me.” Josie states firmly. She knows it in her heart.

A weighted pause grows between them, gaining mass by the second, and neither of them say a word. Caroline glances away, avoiding Josie’s eyes determinedly. Josie’s eyebrows furrow as she realizes why Caroline has suddenly become quiet, and then she frowns.

“Oh.” Josie whispers, shrinking in on herself, a bit saddened. “You think I’m going to hurt Hope.”

Ouch.

Josie lowers her head and plays with her fingers, falling into deep thought. Even her own mother thinks less of her now. She slumps in her chair, quiet and resigned.

“No. No, you’re my daughter. Of course I don’t think that, but Mikaelsons are…” Caroline has trouble finding the correct words. “Passionate. Emotional, by nature. Just be gentle with her.”

The way she says it is careful, like she is hiding something. Caroline speaks slower than usual.

Josie leans closer, eyebrows raised.

“What does that mean?” Josie sits up in her seat, enough that her body lifts off the chair an inch or two. Curiosity runs rampant in her head.

The bell conveniently rings at that exact moment. It’s a gentle sound, since two-thirds of the school have super hearing, but it’s still loud enough that Josie’s ordinary ears can recognize it. Her lunch period is over and she hasn’t eaten anything yet.

Caroline recognizes it, too, and her lips twitch up subtlety at the noise. “Go to class, Josie.”

“But—“

“ _Class_.” Caroline nods towards the door.

Josie can’t resist rolling her eyes as she stands up and hugs her mom goodbye. She lingers by the door for a brief moment, not opening it, but keeping her hand resting on the doorknob. She faces Caroline again, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Why’d you let Hope come back to school, after she killed Alyssa?”

Unsurprisingly, Caroline is silent.

Josie steps back inside the room. “You forced us to room together, too. You must trust that she’s not dangerous. Why? Everyone else thinks Hope is a monster.”

“It’s not that simple. A lot of the people here have killed before. I remember it being more black and white when I was really young, but real life isn’t a fairytale. No heroes or villains.” Caroline tells her this with a fond smile, no doubt recalling the days of Josie’s childhood when she used to beg to be read to. “We all have heightened emotions, it’s hard to manage that. Alyssa was cheating on her, Hope has a temper… anyways, I thought Hope could use a second chance.”

“And that’s all?”

“Yes. You know Hope loved Alyssa. Her grief is enough of a punishment.” Caroline shrugs sadly, almost with visible effort, as if carrying a weight on her shoulders. “You should go to class. Don’t be late.”

Josie can take a hint.

Nodding, Josie props open the door again. “I’ll try not to be. Bye, Mom, love you.”

“Bye. Love you.”

As soon as Josie steps outside of the room and into the hallway, several students turn to look at her. It’s been like this all day. Everyone wants to know where she went, what she was doing, and if she is okay. A few particularly nosey vampires (mostly some of the younger ones), stopped her between second and third period to ask if Josie had run off with a secret lover. The theories are all insane, which Josie expected, but it’s been a while since she was openly gossiped about, and the magnitude of it is tiring.

A group of giggles girls snicker and whisper while Josie walks by, not being discreet in the slightest, and Josie clenches her jaw.

Her fingers twitch where they’re wrapped around the straps of her backpack. She has the sudden, unrestrained thought that if she wanted, it would be easy to shut them up. The incantations rest in the back of her throat, never used but startlingly familiar. She knows the correct spells.

It could be so easy.

**Do it.**

All it would take was a couple of words.

**Now.**

Josie shakes her head vigorously, washing away the treacherous thought in an instant. What the hell is she doing? Thinking about killing someone over petty, schoolgirl drama? That’s not who she is.

Since she still has a minute or two before class starts, Josie props herself up on a nearby wall and tries to get a handle on her thoughts. She breathes slowly. In and out. She just needs to calm down.

When Josie opens up her eyes, she smiles.

Hope stands across the hallway, leaning against a wall as she laughs freely at something Maya is telling her. She has on the simplest form of their uniform that there is—a darkly colored sweater over a clean, white blouse, and a flowing skirt. Her sleeves are rolled up around her elbows, so that her forearms are bare, dusted with muscle and freckles.

Josie stares for what feels like a century, but is really only a couple seconds. She’s transfixed by the sound of Hope’s laughter and by the sight of her, head thrown back and jaw a straight line.

Christ.

She’s so pretty.

Josie is overcome with the urge to race across the hall and kiss Hope, but soon fingers snap in front of her face, effectively breaking her out of her stupor.

“Oh my god.” Lizzie groans, mild disgust in her voice. “Could you be more obvious?”

Embarrassed, Josie hurriedly lowers her eyes as she bumps shoulders with Lizzie. They continue to walk in the same direction they’d been going.

“Do you and Hope do anything other than suck face or do you talk, too?” Lizzie asks. Josie is used to her sister’s lack of tact by now, but this still takes her off guard enough that she flushes bright red.

Josie drags Lizzie into the classroom, scowling at her. “Drop it. Stop teasing me.”

They set down their bags at the first empty seats that they see, claiming a four-person table in the front, and stretching their long legs into the spare chairs.

“I’m not teasing. I was just wondering if you knew anything about Hope’s friend, Maya.” Lizzie asks carefully. Josie glances up at her sister and finds that she’s already sorting through her belongings with far too much determination. Strange.

“You two live in the same room.” Josie deadpans and ignores whatever annoyed look Lizzie sends her. “Why can’t you talk to Maya yourself?”

“It’s complicated.” Lizzie clicks her pen, chewing her lower lip in thought.

“It doesn’t seem complicated.”

“Well, it is.”

Josie stares at Lizzie for a prolonged amount of time, hoping for an explanation, but gets nothing. She sighs. “I guess I can ask Hope about Maya, since you’re being so weird.”

The rest of the class stumbles in. Kaleb and MG slip in through the door at the last minute, talking to each other about something unimportant. The twins move their legs off the empty chairs as the boys approach, in order to let them sit down.

For the majority of the class they take notes and occasionally whisper or make silly faces at each other, but mostly stay silent.

In the last, remaining five minutes, MG stretches and yawns loudly enough to catch their table’s attention. He smiles. “I didn’t get much rest last night. I was planning Halloween costumes.”

“Halloween isn’t for another month or so.” Josie comments while finishing up her notes.

She sets her pen aside and finds all three of her friends staring directly at her with weirdly similar, concerned expressions.

Josie frowns. “What?”

The three of them share awkward glances.

“Halloween is in two and a half weeks.” MG tells her gently, after a moment.

“Oh. Right.” She can’t help but feel awkward for forgetting. Halloween doesn’t feel that close. It’s not like she has had time to pick a costume or think about the dance that much. “What are you going to be?”

MG’s high spirits return. “You mean what are we going to be. I’m thinking of Power Rangers.”

Chorused groans run through the table and his idea is shot down in seconds. While the rest of Josie’s friends joke around and swap potential costume ideas, she zones out completely. The thought of going to a dance right now sounds painful. She knows that she’ll be in the mood for it later, but now all she wants to do is go back to her room. She wants to sit in solitude, strumming familiar songs on her ukulele, or reading a new book.

More than anything, Josie wants to pretend that the rest of the school doesn’t exist and try to get Hope to cuddle her while they nap. She’s tired.

Once class ends, Lizzie and Kaleb go in another direction, so Josie is left with MG.

Josie hooks her arm through his. “Hey, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.” MG agrees easily.

“Do you mind if I borrow one of your cameras? I just need it for the week.”

“What type of camera?”

“The type you can put up in a bedroom.” Josie doesn’t realize how sexual that sounds until MG raises his eyebrows at her, scandalized.

MG smirks. “Kinky.”

“Shut up.” She nudges her shoulder against his and he laughs brightly. “So, can I borrow one or not?”

“I guess. Give me a second.” MG pulls her aside and hands her his books. She briefly sinks under the weight of the pile before standing upright. He glances around quickly, then zooms off in vamp speed. A second later, he stands in front of her again, this time with a camera. “Alright, here. I’ve got to ask what this is for, though. You’re not really making a sex tape, are you?”

“Of course I’m not.” Josie scoffs, fiddling with the device. “I’m doing spy work.”

“Spy work?”

“Yep. Top secret.” She squeezes his forearm and thanks him before rushing off to her next class.

—

It’s the end of the day and Josie is bone-tired. It almost hurts to keep her eyes open, her body is so drained of energy.

Her bedroom is empty, so Hope must be out for a run or something.

Josie dumps the contents of her backpack onto a clear spot on her desk—textbooks, extra paper, pencils and pens, and MG’s camera. She drops into her desk chair with a quiet sigh, rolling her shoulders in circles to relieve some of the ache there while picking up the camera. Boredly, she begins to fiddle with it.

Her top secret plan is to set up a camera in their room, just in case she (or her alter ego) chooses to randomly run away in the middle of the night again. She figures she’ll have to wait for Hope to return and get Hope’s permission before she sets up ‘spy work’ in their room.

It’s a good time for a nap.

Josie walks across the room and lays in bed. It’s still somewhat light out, the dimly orange sunlight leaking in through the open curtains as the night approaches. It feels strange to try and sleep so soon, before anyone has dinner. She sinks into the mattress anyways, intent on hiding herself away from the world for as long as possible.

Ten minutes pass and Josie is still hovering on the edge of sleep. Her muscles are slack with exhaustion, but her brain scatters recklessly.

What if she disappears again?

It’s too risky.

Josie reluctantly cracks her eyes open, ignoring how the faint light blurs her vision. She blinks to clear it as she gets up again. Part of her pleads for a second of proper sleep, but another part of her is wide awake. She looks over the collection of books on her shelves and raises to her tippy toes to pluck one off the top shelf. Her hands flip through it with practiced ease, until she finds the ripped paper she hid between the pages.

It’s a resurrection spell.

One of the witch’s cats died last week and Josie has been hoping to bring it back. It was a small, cute cat. It couldn’t be too hard to do…

Black magic always leaves her feeling drained, though, and what she really needs now is to find a way to sleep. Josie closes the book, feeling a pinch of regret as she does so. The urge to lose herself in a spell clings to her insides, lingering even as she attempts to catch some rest.

Hope’s absence leaves a weight in the room that is hard to ignore.

**You’re pathetic.**

“Stop talking.” Josie massages her temple with her thumb, cringing in pain. Sometimes, it feels as if her skull is splitting in two. “Just, stop…”

—

At first, Josie thinks that she somehow found her way into Lizzie’s room for late night cuddles. It takes her a second to realize that the body next to her is unlike her sister’s. It’s warmer, for one, and the leg nudging hers doesn’t stretch nearly as far as Lizzie’s does.

Josie rolls over out of curiosity. It surprises her to spot Hope laying on her back beside her, eyes open but body perfectly still.

“Hope?”

Hope blinks, startled. “Oh. Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“No, no it’s fine.” Josie did kind of get woken up by Hope’s rustling, but she’s okay with it. She reaches out to take Hope’s hand in hers, liking having her close. “It’s late. Where were you?”

It’s pitch black in the room now, no sunlight to be seen. Josie is sure she missed dinner.

“I was with Landon. He wanted to watch Lord of the Rings. I would’ve left as soon as it got nerdy, but he did get lit on fire today. Figured I owed it to him.”

“Oh.” Josie replies, unexplainably and irrationally jealous. She tries to ignore it. “Is he okay?”

“He’s great. Vamp blood works wonders.” Hope smiles, but by the way her lips barely lift, Josie can tell that she’s tired.

Josie can’t shake the wave of displeasure at the thought that Hope spent the last couple hours hanging out with Landon. What’s worse is that she knows it’s her own fault for lighting him on fire in the first place, but she can’t help the bubble of insecurity that rises inside of her.

“I missed you.” She says, casually, and then not so casually, “I mean, I _really_ missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Jo.” Hope mumbles, her voice laced with sleep. Her eyelids flutter closed, heavy from a lack of relaxation.

They lay in stilted silence for a moment. While Hope seems able to fall asleep, Josie is wide awake.

“Are you going to the dance with Landon?” Josie blurts, out of the blue.

Hope’s eyes barely open, but her brows scrunch together slightly. “No. I was going to, but I talked to him about it today. I only really want to go with one person.”

“Oh.”

“I mean you, Josie.”

“I know that.” Josie murmurs. Her smile shines too bright in the dark.

“How’d you know? About the dance?”

Josie hesitates. “Penelope. I have class with her.”

Hope makes a noise that sounds like the audible version of a frown and feels around for Josie in the dark, patting the bed until her arm encircles Josie’s waist. Josie gladly lets her.

“I hate when she gossips about me.” She mutters it into the crook of Josie’s neck, words muffled.

“She gossips about everyone.”

“She’s… mean.” Is all Hope says, but it seems as if she is too tired to come up with a proper insult.

Josie’s gaze wanders over to the bookshelf. She swears she can see it in the darkness, calling out to her from afar. She forces herself to look away. Instead of focusing on black magic, Josie directs her attention to Hope’s sleeping figure and allows herself to lean into Hope’s waiting hands.

“Night, Hope.”

“Night, Jo.”

—

The following days pass in a serene blur of class and homework. Something more interesting than Josie’s disappearance happens and the students redirect their gossip elsewhere. Fading back into the shadows offers Josie a sort of peace that she hasn’t felt in a long while.

By Friday afternoon, Josie is beginning to think that her little problem was just that. Little.

The camera footage over the past couple nights only showed her sleeping soundly, occasionally shifting to grasp at a pillow or adjust her position, but nothing more. They also have some footage of Hope’s leg jostling around like a kicking dog, which is probably the only valuable part.

Walking through the door after her classes, Josie is greeted by an unfamiliar sight: Hope, wearing a loose, paint-stained shirt, her eyes zeroed in on a canvas.

The canvas isn’t facing Josie, so she can’t see it, but she can definitely see Hope. She pauses to memorize the image in front of her, noticing the slight furrow between her brows and the intense look on her face. Hope doesn’t even seem to realize that Josie is there, all of her attention is elsewhere. She only raises her head when Josie closes the door, the wood giving a quiet thump.

“Hey. How was class?” Hope’s face seems more flushed than usual, but also open and unguarded in a way that it normally isn’t.

“Good. We helped the younger kids grow a rose today.” Josie sets her bag down on the desk, her fond smile growing as she remembers Pedro’s blatant enthusiasm. She looks at Hope. “Do you mind if I…”

Hope takes a tiny step back, gesturing at the painting with her left hand. “Sure, go ahead.”

Josie walks behind Hope and wraps her arms around Hope’s waist, resting her chin on top of Hope’s shoulder.

The canvas is covered in a contrast of colors, the stark white-grey fur of a wolf and the dark, navy color of the sky behind it. It’s the wolf’s reflection in the rippling water. Josie recognizes the area as the school’s lake, down by the docks. It’s not a sad painting in the slightest. She looks at it and sees power. Freedom. She rarely ever thought about the benefits of being a wolf until now, only of the curse, but now she considers it. There’s got to be pros as well as cons. Light between the horror of turning, like the sun passing between moons.

“It’s beautiful. It’s _you_ , isn’t it?” Josie has no doubt about it.

“How’d you know?”

“I don’t know. It reminds me of you, in your lighter moments.” Josie gives Hope a gentle squeeze. When they’re this close, Josie can tell that Hope smells like pine. “What’s it like? Being a wolf?”

Hope hesitates before answering. “It hurts. A lot, at first, but then it’s exhilarating. You’re stripped down to your basic instincts and most problems fade away. It’s nice, in a way, to be forced out of your head and focus on simpler things. Nature. The wind. Running as fast and as far as you can. What about you? What’s magic feel like?”

Josie doesn’t have to think about her answer.

“Power.”

“Descriptive.” Hope jokes, twisting around to face Josie. Her hands drop to Josie’s waist, thumbs rubbing circles against her hips.

“I don't know how else to explain it. You feel it in every inch of your body. It’s enough to get lost in.” Sometimes she feels like she’s falling off the deep end, but Josie doesn’t say that part aloud.

Instead, Josie tilts her head downwards to kiss Hope firmly on the lips. She tries to explain the unsaid to Hope with her mouth, as if she could pour herself right into Hope—a raging waterfall crashing down on a tiny, overflowing cup.

Josie nudges Hope back onto the bed and crawls into her lap. Hope’s hands immediately reach out to steady her.

“I was thinking,” Josie says, kissing the soft spot under Hope’s jaw, “MG is throwing this party…”

“Party?”

“At the Old Mill tonight. We could drop by—“ She frowns when Hope dodges her lips.

“You know how I feel about parties.” Hope sighs, then she tilts her head curiously. “Did you get in my lap so I’d say yes?”

Josie blushes at being caught. She plays with the buttons on Hope’s shirt, looking down at her with Bambi eyes and a pout. “Maybe… yes. Please go?”

“Josie Saltzman, you master manipulator.”

“It’s _one_ party.”

“Everyone hates me.” Hope points out, a little sulkily.

Josie cups Hope’s face in her hands, lifting her chin an inch. She looks into deep blue eyes.

“Not everyone hates you. I don’t hate you.” Josie thinks back on when she had been drunk and so, so, careless with everything, and had told Hope the exact opposite. She’s itching to prove herself now. “I want to spend the whole night with you. It could be fun. I promise I won’t leave your side all night and, if it sucks, we can leave whenever you want to leave.”

“Fine.” Hope agrees slowly.

“Yay!”

Josie excitedly leans forward to pepper Hope’s face with kisses. Hope pretends to be unhappy about it for all of two seconds before she cracks a smile, her skin tinted a faint pink.

Once it’s dark out, Hope and Josie leave for the party together.

Lizzie is waiting for them at the entrance of the school, mindlessly inspecting her painted nails with disinterest until they approach. Her sister is dressed nicely, in a faded pair of jeans and a flowing, cream-colored blouse.

“Josie! I’ve missed you.” Lizzie practically tackles her in a big hug. Josie stumbles backwards, only stopped by Hope’s hand on her back. “Maya left early and Kaleb is terrible at picking lipsticks. He can’t see the difference between garnet red and blood red.”

“Glad to know I’m wanted.” Josie huffs out, a bit strained from the force of the hug.

(Lizzie has been touchy lately, like she is worried that if she doesn’t keep a tight enough grip, Josie will float away.)

Lizzie glances behind Josie. “Mikaelson.”

“Lizzie.” Hope greets in the same flat, uncaring tone of voice.

“You’re both ridiculous.” Josie rolls her eyes at their standoffish nature. “Come on, let’s go.”

As they get deeper into the woods, Josie starts to hear music blasting in the distance. She can see figures moving in the dark ahead of them, a few drunk stragglers wandering around. The energy of the party is clear, the whole school pumped up for the football game tomorrow.

Josie shivers and attempts to tug her skirt further down her thighs. It’s cute, but not exactly warm.

Noticing, Hope slings her arm around Josie’s shoulders to warm her up. She whispers in Josie’s ear. “It’s not too late to bail, you know?”

Josie rolls her eyes, but leans greedily into Hope’s body heat. She feels like a furnace.

“We’re not even there yet.”

The drinks are easy enough to find. One of the wolves is doing a keg stand while others cheer around him and, beside that, there’s a drink table. Lizzie mixes herself something with vodka in it, eyeing the wolves with disgust.

“Do you want the same, sis?” Lizzie offers, ready to make another.

“Sure.” Josie nods.

Josie turns to ask Hope if she wants anything, but sees Maya appearing out of the crowd of wolves instead. Maya says something to Hope that requires a lot of hand motions to explain.

It’s hard to hear over the pounding music.

“You’ve _got_ to see Brock do a keg stand.” Maya insists, pulling at Hope’s hands pleadingly.

Hope glances at Josie.

“Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” Josie assures, holding up the cup Lizzie handed her. She’s just glad that Hope actually seems interested in being here, at least a little.

Maya drags Hope over to a tall, muscley wolf who is quickly being named Keg King by the crowd.

Josie kills time by sipping her drink slowly, not interested in dancing just yet.

“God, they’re like animals.” Penelope seems to appear out of thin air, standing at Josie’s side with a cup in hand and her eyes on the wolves.

“Are you stalking me?” Josie snaps, startled.

“It’s a party. Don’t be so self-centered.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Josie huffs. She watches Penelope for a second, wishing that she could crack into her mind and see her thoughts instead of having to interact with her. In a less angered tone, Josie asks, “Did you tell anyone?”

Penelope takes too long to answer, looking as if she’s enjoying watching Josie suffer in silence.

“No. Don’t worry. I don’t think that anyone would believe me if I did. You look way too innocent for fire magic. It’s the cheeks.” Penelope reaches out and pinches Josie’s face before Josie swats her away.

“Leave me alone.”

Penelope raises her hands in the air. She’s most likely drunk, by the smell of her. “No problem.”

Josie searches the sea of people for Hope and finds her standing nearby, still talking to Maya.

Hit by a wave of energy, Josie tilts her head back to down the remainder of her drink. It stings her throat, the burn lingering in her chest. She heads over to Hope and pulls her in close as soon as she’s capable of doing so.

“Dance with me?” Josie doesn’t have to yell to be heard. Hope’s ears pick it up just fine.

Hope nods. “Sure.”

So, that’s what they do for the next hour or so. It feels nice to let loose for a night, especially with Hope joining her. Hope is sort of a stiff dancer at first, but she relaxes after a drink or two and is soon following along to the beat perfectly. She’s a different type of beautiful tonight, wild in the places that she would normally be reserved. Her baby hairs curl around her face, untamed, and her cheeks are dusted pink from exertion.

All of it makes Josie want to kiss her.

She knows Hope is a private person and isn’t sure how Hope feels about PDA, so she starts to lead Hope away from the crowd.

“Where are we going?” Hope asks, as they move past the drink table.

“Somewhere else.” Josie replies vaguely. She intends on going back to their room, but she’s not totally opposed to making out against a tree.

They’re weaving through the crowd when Josie hears a wet splash from behind her and Hope abruptly drops her hand.

“Not so fast, Mikaelson.” Some nameless vamp says. He’s looming over Hope like a predator, although he seems more amused than hungry. His cup is empty and the front of Hope’s shirt is soaked through with alcohol.

Josie feels anger so white-hot and solid that it’s as if an axe is splitting her head in two, rendering her unable to think clearly. She places a hand on Hope’s arm and siphons from her briefly, then stands in front of the boy in a flash.

“Apologize to her.” Josie demands, every bit of her insides hardened to steel.

“Not likely, you—“

The amusement drains off the boy’s face slowly, a pained expression replacing it. Panic swims in his eyes as he looks at Josie, but Josie’s own face barely reflects any emotion at all. He chokes out strangled sounds that barely resemble words, grasping at his throat. His friends begin to notice and circle him hurriedly in concern.

Eyes almost black, Josie smiles. “Say it again. I didn’t hear you.”

The boy crumples to the ground in a curled ball, wheezing and coughing as the life is forced out of his body. He stares up at Josie desperately, clearly trying to say something, but his hacking only gets more violent, as if he’s going to cough up a lung.

“Louder.” Josie’s voice almost doesn’t sound like it belongs to her, but it’s also eerily similar to her usual tone.

_“I’m sorry!”_

“Now was that so hard?” Josie releases her hold on him, entirely unaffected by the look of horror on his pale face.

Josie shifts her attention from the convulsing boy at her feet to behind her, where Hope stands. It’s too hard to read the expression on Hope’s face, her eyes are hooded and guarded. She doesn’t look happy. Hope stares back at Josie for a long second before she turns and marches off into the trees. Josie’s mouth pops open helplessly, but no noise comes out as she realizes what she did.

She scrambles to run after Hope, dashing off into the woods without thinking. It’s too dark out to see anything.

“Hope! Hope, come back!”

She spots Hope’s figure in the shadows. Hope is standing around, not moving.

As soon as Josie is close enough, Hope rounds on her. “What the hell was that, Josie?”

“I—I don’t know.” Josie swallows, shaking her head. “He _hurt_ you.”

“So you try to strangle him?”

“I didn’t even touch him!” Josie raises her voice, but it’s a useless thing to say. Hope isn’t stupid enough to believe that.

“You can’t just attack people.” Hope insists.

Josie’s hands frantically grasp at Hope’s own, desperate to keep her close. Hope’s hands are warm but they don’t hold back as tightly.

“He. Hurt. You.” Josie repeats herself in a firm tone, maintaining eye contact with Hope. “Maybe not physically, but I saw your face. He hurt your feelings.”

Hope looks down, conflicted. “I thought you were only going to use magic for good.”

“This _was_ good.” Josie replies, senselessly.

Hope scoffs and releases her hands, walking off in the other direction once again. She isn’t going that fast, but Josie still has to jog to keep up with her. Leaves and wet soil crunch under her boots as she manages to catch up to Hope.

“Wait. Let’s just—“ Josie yelps in shock, tripping over a large branch in the darkness.

She falls forward, the one thing stopping her from tumbling to the ground being Hope’s arms. Hope catches her immediately, pulling her upright and setting her back on her feet.

“I think I hear something.” Hope glances to their left, brows furrowing in curiosity.

Josie trails after Hope, following her further into the woods. She’s glad that a distraction popped up to stop them from arguing. Hope is breathing deeply, like she might actually be sniffing the air, and she puts herself in front of Josie protectively.

They don’t find a threat, but something equally as unpleasant to see: Maya and Lizzie making out against a tree.

“Maya?” Hope asks, disbelieving.

“Oh.” Josie decides to look anywhere else. “I did _not_ need to see this.”

Maya pries herself away from Josie’s sister, while Lizzie continues to lean against the tree, looking unbothered by the entire situation.

“Hope, hi.” Maya lifts her hand to wave meekly.

“Are you really…” Hope trails off, glancing at Josie, probably guess it wouldn’t be best to insult Lizzie right now. “Lizzie Saltzman, really?”

“Don’t be such a prude, Mikaelson. It’s not like you’re entirely innocent.” Lizzie looks between Hope and Josie meaningfully.

Josie rolls her eyes.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this night.” Hope says and turns to leave.

Josie spares one last glance at her sister before going to follow Hope.

—

The morning before the game, Josie makes sure to wake up bright and early. After a cold night of Hope being pretty quiet with her, she’s eager to get in the shower and melt away her frustration.

She gathers the pieces of her football uniform out of the back of her closet and places them in the bathroom. Before Josie goes to take a shower, she decides to check the camera footage. Hope is still sleeping peacefully, snoring quietly as she clutches her pillow. Josie smiles at the sight while she flips through the controls on the camera.

The last couple times she checked were boring, so she expects the same now.

The footage from last night shows both Hope and Josie in the room, sleeping in separate beds. No movement appears for a while. As Josie watches them get further into the night, she sees herself begin to twist and turn a little in her sleep. Josie continues to watch her past self move more, until eventually she sits upright in bed. She doesn’t remember this part.

It’s like a horror movie.

Past-Josie’s head turns to look directly into the camera instantly. Her eyes are black, her face completely unreadable. She waves.

Josie goes through the rest of the footage in a frenzy, too frightened by the occurrence to slow down. From what she can see, that’s the only thing that happened that night. Somehow, the thought that something inside of her simply felt the need to say hello is more unsettling than anything else.

Realizing that there’s nothing she can do about it right now, Josie steps into the bathroom and lets the hot water burn holes in her fear. She shakes off the feeling of unease and sets her mind onto the upcoming game.

Once she gets dressed, she heads back into her room and finds Hope still in bed, but now awake.

“Morning.” Josie greets, because it feels strange to not say anything at all.

Hope yawns. “Morning.”

Josie tentatively sits down nearby Hope, feeling a little better about her odds when Hope scoots over to make room for her.

“I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know how I let myself get out of control like that.” She mumbles, slightly embarrassed. A night’s worth of sleep let her reflect on her actions. She wasn’t thinking clearly last night, her head was elsewhere.

“I can understand anger.”

“Yeah, I really needed to cool off. It was wrong of me. I can’t believe I ruined the night.”

“You didn’t ruin the night.” Hope tells her softly. Josie’s spirits lift considerably when she finds a lightness in Hope’s eyes. “It was still pretty fun. I enjoyed it.”

“Oh? Hope Mikaelson _enjoyed_ a party?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so smug. I mostly just liked dancing with you.”

Time seems to slow down at Hope’s admission, the morning’s mood briefly shifting from regretful to intimate. Josie can see the subtle tint of color on Hope’s pale skin. She smiles secretly at it.

Hope takes Josie’s hand. “I’m not mad anymore, but I want you to promise me something before we move forward.”

“Sure. Anything.”

“Promise that you’ll ease up on the magic. I know you have class, but outside of that… I just don’t want you to get too caught up in it.” Hope plays with Josie’s fingers, lacing them together.

Just the thought of that sounds excruciatingly difficult for some reason. She agrees anyways.

Josie nods. “Okay, I promise.”

“Good.” Hope hesitates for a second, looking as if she is trying to make sure Josie is telling the truth, before she tilts forward to kiss her cheek. As she pulls away, she seems to remember something. “I have something for you, actually.”

“Is it a puppy?”

“Maybe. Close your eyes.”

Josie does as she’s told. She feels the mattress tremble as Hope stands up, hears a fair amount of rustling and a drawer opening, and then Hope is back on the bed again. Something faintly cold, like silver, is laid over her neck, and Josie starts to make guesses about necklaces.

“Okay, open them.”

On her neck, she adorns a delicate chain that leads down to a small talisman. It’s beautifully embellished with intricate details, the design etched clearly into the flesh of it.

Hope never removes her eyes from Josie’s face, wearing a mildly apprehensive expression.

“Oh, Hope. It’s beautiful, I love it.” Josie weighs it in her palm, smiling gleefully. “It can be my good luck charm for the game.”

She leans up on her knees to kiss Hope square on the mouth.

“Thank you. Really. You’re so sweet.” She thinks that Hope might be slightly embarrassed about being called sweet, but Josie kisses Hope again before she can get mad about it.

Hope reciprocates eagerly, her hands dropping to grasp at Josie’s hips and her lips parting without hesitation. It’s utterly humiliating how quickly she finds herself moaning, arching into Hope’s hands, desperate to be touched. She knows that they’ve got to get ready soon, but at the same time, she can’t find it in herself to care as she snakes her arms around Hope’s neck to press them together tightly.

Josie tilts her head to deepen the kiss, her body flooding with heat at the low sound Hope makes in response. A part of her wants more, wants to sneak her hands underneath Hope’s shirt and drag her fingers over heated, bare skin, wants to feel Hope tremble and moan for her.

But.

They can’t do that right now.

Josie pulls away with a gasp, the burning ache in her stomach stealing her breath. “We should stop before we get carried away. We’ve still got to go to the game.”

“We could skip it.” Hope suggests. She dips her head to press her lips to the side of Josie’s neck.

Josie’s eyes flutter shut.

“We…” She trails off, distracted, letting out a soft moan as Hope’s teeth nip at her throat. It feels so good that Josie almost agrees, only pulling back at the last second. “We can’t. My mom and Lizzie would kill me.”

“Fine.” Hope replies, swiping her tongue over red lips. Josie tracks the motion with her eyes.

It’s getting considerably harder to deny Hope of anything, so she gets off the bed, leaving Hope and her devastatingly pretty features behind.

“Get dressed.” Josie clears her throat.

Hope does so reluctantly, moving at a glacial pace.

Wolves don’t particularly like groups outside of their pack and Hope doesn’t particularly like to participate in things at all, but Alyssa isn’t here this year so they need someone to step in.

While Hope pulls her jersey over her head, Josie sits on the edge of the bed. She watches Hope emerge from the fabric.

“Fair warning.” Josie says, swinging her legs off the side of the bed lazily. “My mom might invite you to have dinner with us after the game.”

“Why?”

“I told her you found me in the woods. She thinks you’re a hero now.” Josie explains.

Hope combs a hand through her hair, smoothing the strands down. “I’m hardly a hero, Josie.”

“You’re _my_ hero, then.”

Hope ducks her head to hide her blush and Josie can barely contain a smile. It’s too easy to fluster Hope sometimes.

—

“Really? Face paint, too?” Hope groans as they trek out onto the field, the sun beating down on their faces.

Today’s game is at Mystic Falls High School for a change. Their field is different—a little closed off, but slightly bigger—yet it somehow feels familiar to Josie. Maybe because it’s fairly similar to the one at the Salvatore School. They have a water stand set up and, beside that, cans of face paint.

“Yes, really.” Josie bumps her shoulder against Hope’s playfully. “It’s game day. Don’t be such a Grinch.”

Hope mutters something under her breath that’s too quiet to hear, but it’s probably a complaint.

She’s grumpy.

Josie would be lying if she said that she doesn’t find the tiny pout on Hope’s face cute. She only resists commenting on it to spare Hope’s pride.

When they get to the collection of paints, Josie picks up one of the cans. She looks between it and Hope, examining the colors. “You’d look good with red.”

Hope seems reluctant but steps closer willingly.

“There’s a spell for this, you know.” Josie points out, opening the canister. “But I’m easing up.”

She just wants Hope to know that she’s keeping her promise.

Less magic.

“Good.” One of Hope’s eyes scrunches shut as the sunlight blocks her vision.

Josie would normally do a simple spell for this (it’s how she got her Salvatore School logo to look so perfect last time), but she has to admit that doing things manually has its charm.

For one thing, it gives her an excuse to touch Hope. That’s always a plus.

She dips deft fingers in ruby red paint and swipes them across Hope’s skin, just underneath both of her eyes, to mark two blunt stripes. It gives Hope an almost threatening, competitive look. Josie’s hand lingers for a second longer than it needs to, grazing warm cheeks. Hope’s throat bobs as she swallows.

“Stop eye-fucking!” Lizzie snaps at them, walking on by. “Go get a flag.”

One of their teammates (Eric?) is plucking bright yellow flags off a pile and handing them out. He passes one to Josie when she gets in line and hesitates before giving Hope one, too.

While Josie pulls her own around her waist and clasps it on easily, Hope struggles beside her.

Josie smiles warmly at Hope fiddling with her flag and steps forward to help her. She hides a frown. They gave Hope the broken one.

Is _everyone_ always trying to bully Hope?

“Here, take mine.” Josie offers hers up to Hope, after struggling with the broken clasp for too long. They usually give that one to Wade. “It’s easier.”

“Thanks.” Hope says, gratefully.

Josie has to knot the flag twice around her waist to get it to fit right on her, and even then it’s still not perfect, but it’s okay.

Someone begins to clap loudly. “Okay, everyone. Huddle up!”

Lizzie is herding everyone into a circle on one side of the field, glaring at anyone who moves too slowly.

“Game time.” Josie happily hooks her arm through Hope’s, linking them at the elbows.

Hope shoots her a look. “Kill me now.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

They slip into the circle with the rest of the team, both of them standing between MG and Lizzie.

“Now, I don’t want any slackers like last time. If we’re going to lose, then we’re going to lose with class, grace, and effort. That means you, Eric, no standing on the sidelines like sophomore year…”

Josie is hit by such a sudden wave of pain that it renders her momentarily deaf. Her head pounds, brain thrumming violently against her skull.

She huddles close to Lizzie, all but folding in on herself, her hands hugging her elbows, and her eyes downcast. She can’t shake the odd feeling of familiarity that being on the field gives her. It shouldn’t be that strange, considering Josie has technically been here for a game once before, but that was years ago, and this feels different.

Closing her eyes, Josie can easily imagine what the damp grass would feel like on her bare feet.

Looking at the surrounding fence, Josie imagines how much effort it would take to climb over it and if she’d be able to do it on her own. She eyes the fence’s pointed tips warily and instinctively lowers her fingers to her thigh, brushing over where the faded scratches still remain.

“Josie?”

Josie glances away from the fence to the circle of people watching her zone out.

“Sorry.” She blushes, mostly apologizing to her sister. Lizzie gets really intense about this stuff.

Lizzie frowns but claps her hands together in an attempt to hype them up. “Get your head in the game, sis. We’re going to try our hardest to _not_ kick some ass!”

—

The game is pretty lax. They’re being crushed by the other team, as always, and it doesn’t require much effort to lose. Occasionally, Lizzie will shout at someone for playing too well or Kaleb will say something about how they could be winning, but otherwise it’s an easy game.

At halftime, Josie walks off to the sidelines and fills a paper cup to the brim with water. She sips from it sparingly.

One of the Mystic Falls High boys jogs up and stands beside her. He gulps down his water.

He glances at her.

Once.

Twice.

Josie begins to notice.

There’s an eerie familiarity in the cut of his hair and the splatter of caramel freckles across the bridge of his nose, but overall Josie does not recognize him from anywhere.

“Um, sorry.” He says, after a weird amount of eye contact and staring. “You just look really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I saw you drop by one of our practices.”

No.

Well, maybe. Yes?

She can’t fucking remember.

“Sorry, no. That wasn’t me.” She pretends that it doesn’t affect her at all.

Some part of her knows that whoever the boy is, what he’s telling her is correct. On the inside, she is tense. Afraid. Her organs are coiled tightly like venomous snakes beneath her skin.

“Oh.” He smiles. It’s faint. “Alright, then.”

The entire interaction sits unpleasantly in Josie’s stomach.

Her head spins. She leans against the table to try to steady herself, but it’s too late. Somehow, the reminder that she is losing bits and pieces of her memory (but not just bits and pieces, entire days) drives her to a sudden realization, a sudden horror, like stumbling upon a landmine.

She hadn’t even thought to check on Landon or apologize. She didn’t say a word to Hope about the situation either, just let Hope go on, entirely unknowing.

How can she be so violent and yet so uncaring? How can she threaten people at parties without hesitation and burn boys over silly crushes? How did she become this person without even noticing it until now? _How?_

She feels sick. Evil.

The contents of her stomach are on their way to forcing themselves out.

Josie rushes off the field and to the bathroom in a blind panic, shoving open the door and stumbling inside.

She bends over the sink and frantically splashes water onto her face, so that it soaks through the front of her jersey and chills her to the bone. The water does nothing to calm her down, only turns her insides cold. She lifts her gaze to the mirror and has trouble recognizing her reflection.

What type of person would—

Who even is she?

When did looking in the mirror become not only a chore, but a new form of torture?

It’s too much. Too much. All too much.

“Halftime is almost over.” It’s Lizzie who says it, standing in the doorway.

Thank god, Josie thinks at first, glad that no one else has to witness her being on the verge of a breakdown, but then as she thinks deeper Josie wishes it was anyone else. Lizzie can’t see this. She just can’t. Josie refuses to create even more problems for her family. She won’t be a burden.

Josie does the only thing that she can ever think to do: forces it all down into the pit of her mind.

“I know. Give me a sec.” She tries to suck it up. It isn’t too hard—with her face already wet, no one can differentiate between tears and water.

Lizzie does not give her a sec, instead choosing to stand beside her.

“So, you and Maya.” Josie only brings it up as a distraction. “How did that happen?”

“Nothing happened. We were drunk. People hook up at parties, it’s no biggie.” Lizzie shrugs. Josie can tell there’s more to the story, but she doesn’t want to pry.

“Whatever you say.”

Lizzie pauses, looking at her properly. “You okay, Jose?”

“Yep.” She assures.

“Okay.” Lizzie eyes her suspiciously, but doesn’t say anything more.

They stay in the bathroom for another minute or two before returning back to the field to finish up the second half of the game. It’s ridiculously hard for Josie to focus, but thankfully she doesn’t have to. They are trying to lose, after all. No one stops to question Josie when she forgets to catch the ball or misses something because she’s lost in her own head.

It ends what seems like an eternity later.

They lose, as planned, and the Timberwolves are all too happy to gloat about it. Josie just wants to go back to her own school. She’s never felt more exhausted. The other team jogs by her, heading towards their buses while cheering loudly about some sort of post-game celebration.

Josie winces. She wishes they could be quieter.

“Hey.” Hope jogs up to her. She doesn’t appear to be nearly as tired. She’s barely even sweaty, the only sign of exertion being the rosy color on her face. “You okay? You look tired.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. You look pretty, but… tired.” Hope finishes off lamely.

Josie sighs. “I know. Sorry, I’m just worn-out.”

Hope’s lips twitch down. She pulls Josie into her side. “Let’s go back and get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

They continue to walk off the field, attached at the hip. Not far off from them, the Mystic Falls team loads into their bus and drives out of the parking lot. Josie watches them go, unsure as to why her eyes feel obligated to track the action.

It all feels… off.

The bus makes a turn down a hill and begins to roll down at increasing speed. She waits for the vehicle to slow—prays for it to stop—but it only continues to pick up speed. Her heart clenches.

No, stop. Please, _stop_.

It’s only then, when it’s too late, that she’s hit with a moment of clarity, her brain opening up to show her every forgotten memory.

_She_ did this. It was her. She snuck out of school, she climbed the fence, she cut the—

She cut the breaks.

A piercing shriek comes from someone—maybe from her own mouth, she doesn’t know—as the bus drives off the road and rams into traffic, crashing.

It’s _her_ fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we’re going back to Hope’s POV


End file.
